~Garrus~

Sleeping in Garrus' bed the past three nights seemed to be helping with Jane's nightmares. He couldn't hear her every night talking and moving in her sleep and she seemed to be getting a bit more sleep. He could tell they were still plaguing her, but maybe she was on the way to working them out in her own way.

Either way, he was glad to see the improvement and the little signs of possibly more in time. Today was actually the first morning that he woke up and she hadn't joined him a short time later. If it meant standing firm every time she offered to sleep back on the couch and just plain ignoring any protest, then it was worth frustrating her to the point where she just resorting to throwing her hands up and mock pouting. He guessed that if she had more energy, she would most likely be putting up a bigger and better fight, but until then he would revel in his victories.

He had woken up at his usual time and immediately he stilled with his ears focused on the other room. From behind the bedroom door he couldn't pick up the familiar sounds of her weak cries and decided that his morning routine could wait until she woke. It was his day off anyways, so he didn't need to be in any hurry.

Occupying himself with reading up on specifications of some new mods for his pistol, he hadn't noticed how the time passed before the sound of the shower echoed through the apartment. Checking the time, Garrus calculated that Jane got at least another hour and a half of sleep today. Still not anywhere near what he read was healthy for a human, but he'll take what he got and figured with the way things were going she'd soon get a chance to sleep through the night soon.

The water cut off and, moments later, Jane exited the bedroom dressed in casual clothes for the day and her hair hanging over her shoulders. He had seen it down before during the mornings that she spent some time with him before he left to work, but he had never seen it dark and heavy with water.

She notices him staring and smirks. "What? Never seen a girl straight out of the shower?" she jokes as she heads into the kitchen.

He gets up from the couch and sits at the chair from his desk that has found a permanent place in the kitchen from their mornings spent together. "No, just never seen your hair wet before. I had read that it absorbs water, but never really thought it'd change so much in appearance."

Leaning into the fridge and pulling one of the orange fruits she had bought earlier with the other food to stock his kitchen. He was fine with her claiming the fridge as her own as he wasn't home to use it and it helped to alleviate the worry that she was spending all her money on delivery and eating out. "Aw," she pouts out her lower lip as she leans her hip against the counter, "don't you worry your little head. It'll be back to its boring state in a bun or ponytail in no time."

He tried his hand at another human gesture, eye rolling, that she seemed to use quite often, but knew he failed horrible at she snickered. Ignoring her he explained, "I'm not saying that I don't like it, I just like when your hair is dry better. And the ponytail and bun thing is your doing. You can leave it down if you want, I've seen plenty of humans – and you - with their hair loose that it doesn't bother me, but I might be biased because I like the color you have."

She snorts and rolls her eyes correctly, he notes, and responds, "stop, stop please." She throws her free hand against her chest. "The flattery is too much. I'm dying from your great romantic skills." As she laughs and he shakes his head, a small quirk to his mandible despite his every effort to look distraught.

When she quiets enough she takes a shallow bite of the fruit, but her face contorts as a teal juice dribbles down her throat and he recognizes the smell and color of the juice immediately.

After she had gone to the store she had told him she purchased some food for him that she thought he could have when he was looking for a quick snack or light meal. He hadn't really looked closely at what she bought, but thanked her anyways and now found that her shopping included at least one Shakta fruit, a very sweet treat usually eaten as a decadent dessert after a meal of importance or celebration.

Coughing, she grabs a towel from the counter and wipes her face as he laughs at the image, juice down the front of her shirt. "Who would've known that the great force known as humanities could be downed by a mere Shakta fruit?" he chuckles. "Did you forget how food works, Jane?"

She throws the now dirty towel across the room with a scowl, "laugh it up there buddy. I thought this was an orange. Who the hell made a dark green fruit have an orange peel?" She looks suspiciously at the cause of her ire.

"Since when do humans stick things in their mouth without double checking?" he shoots back. "Also, last I checked, anyone who knows how to eat properly doesn't drown in their food."

She glares across the room, but he can't take her seriously with the pale skin of her chin and front of her white shirt stained. "I thought it was an orange and was trying to get the peel started with my teeth." Surprisingly she takes another bite of the fruit, but without the choking from before, and speaks after swallowing, "Wasn't expecting that rush of juice, but this it actually pretty good. Here," she pulls it apart with her hands now that the thicker peel has been broken, "I was expecting this to be close to half the size once I peeled it, so I can't eat this all." She hands it to him and he shrugs and accepts his half. "It is yours after all." She returns with the towel back to her original spot across the kitchen and leans against counter, cleaning up any mess she had missed.

Garrus waves off her statement, "you could throw it for all I care. You bought them, so the only money going down the disposal would've been yours." She snorts around her bite of food. "Are you even okay eating this?"

She smirks, "a little late to ask, don't you think?" She dismisses the question with a shrug and head toss but answers a moment later. "Standard Alliance entrance evaluations include testing for any alien allergies. Don't want soldiers keeling over because they ate an Asari sandwich or a Turian spit in their drink." He doesn't get a chance to remark at the oddity of her examples before she continues, "the only allergy I have is to some Salarian spice call Arra. I think they use it in some of their teas. So sorry, Garrus, won't be getting rid of me that easily." She smiles, her fruit now eaten down to the pit in her palm and her lips blue from the juice. "And what about you? I would guess species has some sort of test for those wanting to travel the universe."

He nods and swallows the bite he was working on, "Turians test before the military takes anyone off-world on tour or you could get it done at a doctor if you're planning to travel as a child before boot camp. I was the latter, with my dad working here on the Citadel sometimes my family would visit and my mom wanted to make sure my sister and I were safe." He finishes off the last of his fruit, "I only get effected by some levo plant. Don't remember the name, but I know what it looks like, and the effect is not bad, just an itchy rash if it touches any unplated skin."

She nods and excuses herself to clean her face and change her shirt and returns shortly after telling him to get 'cleaned up and spiffy' because 'they're going out on the town.' Chuckling at her still strange way of finding ways to never just speak plain, he heads to the bathroom to get a shower.

When he comes back out of his bedroom not much later with clean plates and comfortable casual wear, he finds Jane on the couch with some day time show on. She isn't really paying attention, but he doesn't know what she is really doing until he comes up beside her and sees his visor in her hands. She hasn't turned it on and doesn't look like she's trying to, she just runs her hands over the metal and instead looks at the mounting set-up at the back.

He has been without his visor since joining C-Sec, the regulations for patrol officers stating some crap about needing to present a standard visual for Citadel citizens and a unified uniform. He missed it and hating having to be without it after gaining it on his first military posting and customizing it himself. Another part of his reasoning for considering putting his name in for Investigations included the fact that he'd be allowed the visor, a superficial reason he knew but couldn't find it in himself to care. It was why he had brought home the datapad containing an application form and left it on his desk, which he now notices was sitting on the far couch cushion.

He moves over to the couch, picking up the datapad, and sitting down. Jane looks to him and hands the visor over. "I think I tossed a bit violently last night," she admits, "and I must have knocked this and that datapad off the corner of your desk. I hadn't noticed until earlier when I was picking up some of the pillows I threw around and found the two on the floor. I hope I didn't break it, it looks fancy and unique."

He chuckles at her concern and runs his hands over the visor's frame. Nothing looked wrong and he knew it'd take more than a fall to the ground to damage it. "Don't worry about it. If my visor couldn't handle a small fall then I wouldn't want to be using it."

"Did you make it yourself?" she asks.

"Not completely, it wasn't designed for a Turian, but I modified the hardware and software to fit my needs," he answers with a smile.

"Why don't you wear it? You're obviously proud of it," she returns with a smile of her own.

At that he scowls, "because of C-Sec's damn rules. It's just another thing about how they're more focused on how they look to the public than how I do my job." She puts a calming hand on his shoulder and he sighs.

"And the datapad," she motions with her head. "Don't tell me that a disgruntled Turian employee is just like a disgruntled human employee," she says with a smirk, which has him looking to her in confusion. "When someone doesn't like their boss, or their pay, or anything really, they passive aggressively try to get back at their workplace by taking office supplies."

Understanding a bit of what she's talking about, he smirks, "do you really think a C-Sec Officer would steal from C-Sec to relieve stress?" She shrugs with a coy smile and he rolls his eyes, much better if the face that she doesn't crack up laughing is any sign. "The datapad is an application requesting I be considered for Investigations. I just haven't decided if I want to submit it or not." He looks down at the datapad in question, his brow plates pulling down in a frown.

"Why not?" She leans down so that she can look up to his downcast eyes. "Is it because of your dad?"

Shocked, he looks up as she settles more upright but her gaze remains focused. "You remembered that?" When he last spoke of his father to her was months ago when she was messaging him from Earth. It wasn't like he thought she would forget what he had told her, but he remembers that most of the things he said to her was in frustration and he didn't expect her to pick up on the things he didn't out right say, like how his father was still at C-Sec and not retired.

At her nod, he felt the tensions from his indecision for the past few weeks over this application begin to loosen from his shoulders. He explains to her of how he really wants to join the division because he feels he can best use his skills to help people but he is reluctant because he suspects that it would most likely mean he would come into closer contact with his father. His relationship with his father is strained enough that he can only guess what will happen when he finds himself in a working relationship with him.

After some contemplation as the two stare at the pad in his hands she speaks and breaks the silence. "I think you should do it." He looks up to her with a question on his face and his eye plates lifted slightly. "You want this, right?" He nods. "Then I say fuck it. He may always treat you like you aren't doing your job correctly, but as long as you are getting the job done, putting away the bad guys, and helping people, then you know you're doing something right." She smiles, "To hell with what your dad thinks."

He returns her smile and makes a mental note to turn in the datapad into his superior when he returns to work tomorrow evening.