It's the Little Things

It's Alcohol That Does It

"Shepard, it is damn good to see you again!"

"Garrus Vakarian, it has been too long!"

I watched my two favorite people in the galaxy ignore all formalities and go into a hug like they've spent a lifetime away from each other. Shepard grabbed Garrus' shoulders and pushed him away to soak his turian companion all in. Garrus was the closest thing to a brother he had. Not just a brother in arm like the rest of the Normandy crew but one bound by blood.

"Goddamn, you're still ugly as all hell! Haven't changed one bit since I last saw you, have you?"

I clenched a fist to keep myself from pulling off my fingers from wringing my hands.

Garrus let off a gravely laugh held for too long and said, "You're still handsome as ever, Shepard."

"I know," he said flicking some dust off his shoulder.

"Just kidding. You're damn ugly. Always thought humans looked too soft. Makes them satisfying to shoot."

Garrus cocked his head over to me and quickly averted his gaze.

My face probably ignited. I pulled my dress down to my knees.

"Tali, I…" Garrus Vakarian, Archangel of Omega, turian special forces, killer of Reapers, crew of the Normandy, and savior of the Milky Way, and all around cocky loudmouth started towards the floor at an invisible puddle of lost words fallen from his mouth.

I walked over to him and put a hand on his shoulder. "It's okay."

Shepard put reassuring hand at the small of my back.

"There's no mask because I want you to see me."

His mandibles flared and he looked right into my glowing eyes and a smiled erupted over his face. He of course was still speechless.

"You've seen me split mercs in half with my shotgun at point-blank range but you're at a loss of words when you see the face of someone you've been fighting alongside for years. Garrus. I've blown a man in half before! Guts! Blood! He even screamed, Garrus! Your shields lit up when his rib hit you at the speed of sound! The horror's you've seen and here you are, speechless and embarrassed."

Shepard smiled at my new found confidence and I could tell he found it hot.

Garrus kept smiling and threw his head back and laughed harder than before and threw both arms around us for a hug.

"I've missed you two! Come here! It's been a year, hasn't it?" He let go of us and stepped into our house. "It's beautiful. I thought you quarians all would have landed your ships on a nice patch of land and lived inside of them."

He spun around and my hot glare blasted right through that thick forehead.

He flicked a finger at me and said, "Just kidding. So Liara designed it for you? Didn't know she was an architect. Man she's something. Has she been here yet? Damn, you've really taken your retirement seriously. You're not even that old, Shepard."

Shepard led me to the kitchen island and pulled a seat out for the both of us.

"Garrus, take a breath and sit down. You want a drink?"

"If I were ever to say no, you shoot me in the head because I'd be indoctrinated."

The cold chair kissed the back of my thighs. Shepard brushed his hand against a holopanel and the glass wall leading to the backyard danced open. A dry breeze, warm from the hot summer day swept into the kitchen and cloaked my bare shoulders with its embrace. I could smell the thicker cool air follow from the ocean out back and the blue chill of dusk trickle around my bare feet.

"Winning the war was worth it for this very moment," I said. I looked to Garrus who still smiled at me and to the outside where I could feel what we fought for on my bare skin. I cupped my jaw in both hands and sighed, blowing a loose strand of black hair from my face. "All the pain and stress was worth it."

"I'll have you know, Garrrus, that Tali was sweating bullets before you came."

"That right?" He swiveled in his barstool to face me. "You're damn confident, I gotta say that. I saw a ton of quarians still wearing their suits. Yet here you are in that short dress."

"Is it short?"

"I never thought I'd see most of Tali'Zorah vas Rannoch's thigh before."

I looked down to my thigh and grinned.

"My legs look good, don't they?"

Garrus spun to Shepard mouth gaping. He just shrugged.

I pointed out back. "You hear that?" They both listened. "The wind in the trees. The grass slicing at the lazy breeze?" I held up a hand. "I've been listening to that noise most of my life and wanted to know what it felt like. I remember being on Virmire—at the salarian camp waiting for orders and I was standing in one of those shallow tide pools. I was watching the little fish come suckle at my armor and at the sand I disturbed. I could hear that noise, you know the one water makes when it laps off you? And the storm coming in from the ocean. Remember the noise it made? That distant rumble. The smoke gray clouds against the aquamarine ocean surface. The big waves hitting the rocks. The spray of the ocean and the mist the wind carried that sprinkled my visor. Keelah, I wanted to feel all of that. Hear it without my sound actuators. Smell that musky ocean and the kinetic, leaden storm air." I twirled my hand. "Now I can. I can feel and smell and hear so much of what I love."

"How was it the first time?" Garrus asked. "When you took your mask off after we retook Rannoch?"

"I… I knew what we were fighting for. I knew the objective—our mission. But in that moment," I laughed and slouched. "This might sound selfish, but feeling my home world with Shepard and you near, with Legion gone… this. This right here. What we're doing right now. Everything in this moment was what I was fighting for."

All three of us were quiet and I was calm. Heart rate normal. I threw quarrian customs into the wind on many occasions and sharing my identity with Garrus was no longer weird. This all felt like it was meant to happen. My confidence came striding back.

This was right.

"Shepard, pour me a stiff one, said Garrus.

"Roger that. I have some excellent turian scotch." He held a bottle in his hand and laughed. He ran a hand through his stubble. "Funny story this bottle."

I leaned forward and listened.

"You said I was retired, didn't you Garrus?"

"Affirmative."

"After tonight I will officially be."

Garrus peered at me like I knew something. I shrugged.

"Go on…"

"Remember when we went to the Citadel and got drunk and were shooting bottles?"

"I remember outshooting you, Commander."

Shepard smirked like he meant to lose.

"When I was sitting there watching the cars float by it hit me. This might be the last time we had a real drink together. I know we had some more inside the Normandy together, but that was inside a warship. I mean had a drink in peace with zero reminder of what was spiraling out of control outside. I gave myself a mission after we separated. I walked into a liquor store on the Citadel and I bought the nicest damn bottle of turian Scotch I could find and I promised to fight with everything I had to share this bottle with you in my house that we build over Reaper mass graves." Shepard wiped his eye and pulled a heavy bottomed glass from the cabinet and clonked a perfect sphere of ice into the vessel. He pound three fingers worth and gave it to Garrus. "Let it sit for a second. Let it breathe and open up."

I asked for a mojito, or the closest thing to a quarrian mojito there was and Shepard poured a twenty-year-old scotch for himself.

"To friends. And lovers," he said.

We sat in silence for a moment. I watched the two of them chew air to taste the alcohol and savor it. I didn't do that. I'm a cheap date with my mojito.

"Shit. Shepard, this is good. Damn good."

My captain looked at the bottle. "Sixty years old."

Garrus almost spit is sip out.

"I'm afraid to ask what you spend on it." Garrus looked around. "How much did you spend?"

"To be honest, I didn't think I was going to live through the war. Let's just say when I transferred my credits to the merchant, EDI contacted me to make sure I wasn't thieved by a gang of batarians who were going wild with my account."

I threw back my mojito and clanked the glass down. "I'll have another."

Shepard looked to me. "We shouldn't have thrown that celebration back on the Citadel. I have a party animal living with me."

I grabbed an orange from a bowl and threw it at Shepard.

"Excuse me, I got massively drunk in that house we rented because my boyfriend was trying to kill me and my real boyfriend! Do I need another excuse to drink after that? Don't be a bosh'tet and make me another. PTSD is a helluva thing, my friends."

"Does she always get sassy when tipsy, Commander?"

"Sassy among other things."

I winked at Shepard.

Garrus looked into his glass and threw it back. "Commander, just… give me the bottle."

"My final mission was to give this to you in a time a peace, so here you are. Knock yourself out."

He poured it to the brim. "Damn good stuff. So what's for dinner?"

"You'll see. Just enjoy the drink and the view for a moment."

"Right."

Another breeze glided off the deck and into the house and smelled of the ocean and peace. I watched Shepard while sipping at my drink and started to feel dizzy. It was good having a home and being with friends. I stopped worrying about my dress and Garrus seeing me. He was not acting as I thought he would—he did not see me as a novelty or was giving me a tough time. I think the war had changed him. It changed everyone. But I liked Garrus like this. I liked myself. Especially with alcohol. Shepard is a good looking guy too.

But with alcohol?

I can't stop staring at him. He smelled so good too. Like sawed trees and amber and mint. Maybe the mint was from my drink, I couldn't tell anymore. He rolled up his sleeves and unbuttoned one of his top buttons in becoming relaxed. I requested another drink as we watched the fat sun slowly tuck itself into the horizon. The sky was colored of ripe peach, plum skin, and lips flushed by wine. Shepard's relaxed stance and civilian clothes over his slouched shoulders finally unwinding from the war turned me on. He was now focused on only us. His only objective was to make us happy. And I wanted to make him happy.

Garrus leaned against the glass frame of our open wall and sighed after a good joke Shepard told about Zaeed and Wrex arm-wrestling. I finished my drink and stood from the stool.

"Shepard, I need your help with my dress." I stabilized myself against the counter and laughed when I crinkled my toes against the cool floor in delight.

Shepard raised his glass to Garrus and said he'd be right back. Dinner would be started soon.

I walked around the corner to the hall bathroom.

"Tali, maybe you should—"

I pushed him against the wall and kissed him deeply. My lips folded into his and I pulled away nipping at him.

"Touch me," I whispered in his ear. I took hold of his hand and slid it up my dress to my breasts. He cupped me as I kissed him hard back. He pulled away, lips grazing my soft neck and I quietly moaned. I pressed myself against him like the soft waves in the ocean beyond and led his hand across my chest, between my cleavage, down the subtle vertical crease of my navel and finally between my legs. He groaned softly into my neck when he felt me not wearing anything below.

"Surprise," I said. "Keelah…feel me."

I lifted a leg and ran it along his thigh. He ran a hand up and down my skin like it was his last time ever feeling me. I pulled away biting my lip and pulling a strap off one shoulder. I let my hair fall from the ponytail and ran both hands through it to make it a little messy.

"Think he'll notice?" I asked.

"Definitely."

I made a satisfied noise with a lift of my chin and flicked my finger for Shepard to come closer. His hand gently went for my neck and I slapped it away and grabbed him through his pants.

"Come here. I have to tell you something," I said. I pressed my cheek against his and said, "I'm in charge of you tonight."

I pushed him away and put my dress's strap back on my thin shoulder and walked away.

"So what's for dinner?" I asked loud enough to get Garrus' attention. I turned back to Shepard who was staring at me. I winked at him.

I'll tell you one thing: alcohol is one helluva thing.

It's been, what, a couple years since I updated this? Why not start writing it again? Hell, I haven't written any good fiction in years. I felt like I was losing my identity as a writer as I got lost in academic writing only. I call myself a writer, yet I don't write. What the hell am I then? Here's to more Mass Effect fanfiction to the three of you left that read it. Love you guys.

-RAGE