Honey brown with the long black hair, teasin' me with a kiss and a stare. It's like touch and you're takin' me there. So fine and it just ain't fair.
She's been gone for six hours. Six hours, thirty-five minutes and twenty-two seconds, if you're keeping track. Which Garrus is. Shepard never, ever leaves for this long without letting anyone know, so he's worried. He can't help it. You could say a lot – and there was a lot to be said – but one thing's for sure is that she is a creature of habit. If she's going out, she makes it a point to visit everyone and tell them where she's headed. Once, she even told them about her going to get her tattoos filled in and he couldn't help how his mind wandered at the idea. He knew what tattoos were, but he had never considered that Shepard would have any. The thought was a little intriguing, if he were honest.
Still, even then, she let them know she'd be gone for hours. This time, there was nothing. Complete radio silence.
He tries pinging her omnitool. Nothing. He gets Liara to ping her omnitool. Still nothing. He's considering the ethics and statistical likelihood that he'd be able to plant a GPS tracker on her armor when he hears the Normandy VI announce her arrival, and he hears her curse under her breath in response. He can tell she hasn't spotted him yet, considering her attempt at being stealthy. For some reason unknown to him, she's got on an obviously too large hoodie, equally as baggy pants, and a pair of very large sunglasses.
She's pulled the hood over her head, and is looking back and forth, trying to see if anyone else is around. He guesses he should let her know he's there.
He clears his throat, and she startles so hard the hoodie falls off her head. She curses at him, "Shit, Garrus, you scared the hell out of me!"
He's not really paying attention anymore because she's done something to her hair, and he's trying to figure out if he should be concerned or not. He doesn't think human hair is supposed to do that. Somehow, her hair has gone from coily – it reminded him of clouds, he always wondered if it was as soft as it looked – to twisted in elaborate braids and it's grown. A lot. She has them pulled back into a loose ponytail and they come down past her waist, stopping just at the small of her back. He'd bet his best sniper rifle it's not supposed to do that. He's also sure that human hair doesn't change colors. Probably.
She must realize what he's staring at, and so, after another glance around – he really has to hold in laughter at that, she's too much sometimes – she grabs his hand and pulls him into her cabin. All he can do it let himself be dragged along, though he feels a pang of nervousness run through him at being in Shepard's private quarters. It's not something he's thought about – being alone with Shepard – but now that it's happening (though not like that), embarrassment shoots up his spine and makes him even more nervous. She either doesn't notice his fidgeting or ignores it, because all she does is take off her oversized hoodie, revealing a very form fitting tank top (were her muscles always that defined?) that shows off her more elaborate tattoos, including a magnolia that covers her entire left shoulder.
He'd like to mention again that he's never thought about humans like that, but there's something…intriguing about seeing Shepard like this. In the low light, she looks sensuously delicate, smooth brown skin glowing ethereal under the cool lighting. The colors of her tattoos seem neon bright, only enhancing the almost moonlit glow radiating from her. It takes his breath away, and he has to catch himself. He shouldn't be thinking these thoughts about his commander, but he can't help but steal another furtive glance at her.
She's completely changed out of her other outfit, and is now in a comfortable pair of shorts and oversized T-shirt. She's taken her braids out of the loose ponytail, they fall over her shoulders and sway gently as she makes her way to sit on her bed. He sort of wants to run his talons through them to see what they feel like.
She looks up at him and he gets slightly lost in the golden browns of her eyes. He almost doesn't hear her when she says, almost absurdly seriously, "You can't tell anyone else about this."
Right. He completely forgot that under that incredibly capable and inspiring presence, Teriani Shepard is a menace. He doesn't even know what she means by that. He's genuinely speechless for a few seconds. But, he's got to spare his Commander's feelings somehow. Menace or not.
"Shepard, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but everyone's going to know as soon as you step out this room."
She scowls at him, and he knows he's got it rough, because that's his favorite look on her. "I know that. I'm not dumb. I just mean to, like, lie. Like if you see Anderson or one of the other higher ups whose names I keep forgetting. Admiral B something? Or did it start with a D? It's one or the other, I know it is."
"Shepard, focus."
She seems to physically shake the thought off. "Right, right. This isn't about Admiral B-C-D-something. This is about me. And how I need you to lie to Alliance brass."
He blinks. "Didn't you take a whole oath promising not to do exactly that? Something about honor, integrity, and all that?"
She gives him a look like she thinks he should know better. He's not sure whether to be offended or not.
"Well, obviously, that's why I'm getting you to do it!" She gives him a bright grin and a thumbs up. He suddenly feels a migraine coming on. Before he met Shepard, he didn't think turians could even get migraines. It was just like her to prove him wrong.
It was one of the reasons he –
Anyway.
He knows that there's more to this story and he didn't spend all those years in C-Sec to not get to the bottom of this.
He crosses his arms and leans against the wall closest to him. "What's the real reason you're doing all this, Shepard."
She has a stubborn look on her face for a second before it falls away into a pout. She looks away and her hands start twisting over each other.
His eyes narrow and he looks at her with consternation. "Shepard…"
She sighs, groans and flops back on her bed. "Okay, so I may or may not have broken dress code regs by getting these and it may or may not be perhaps by sixth time doing so and I may or may not get an official reprimand if they catch me breaking regs again." She puts air quotes the last part and Garrus gets the feeling that she's had this exact conversation too many times for her liking.
He really shouldn't be surprised that it ended up being something like this. Shepard has a strict moral code and a laundry list of things she won't do, but when it comes to rules and regulations? She couldn't give less of a damn.
He still remembers when she let him tag along to one of her nail appointments. It was an interesting experience to say the least. At the time, he just thought the Alliance regulations were pretty loose, but now he knows better. She just doesn't care and he's got the sneaking suspicion that Anderson has something to do with the reason why she hasn't gotten caught more often.
Still, he's got her back. "Okay, I'll help."
Her eyes light up and she springs up off the bed, gives him a quick but tight hug. She grins up at him, "This is why you're my favorite, Garrus."
His heart leaps into his throat and he coughs gently. "I thought Liara was your favorite."
She shrugs playfully and nudges him lightly. "Who says I can't have two favorites?"
He's always pulled into her orbit, so he can't help but go along with it. "Well, you got me there. Does being the other favorite come with benefits? Pension maybe?"
Teri rolls her eyes at him, but she's still grinning. "It comes with my everlasting love and affection. That a deal breaker for you?"
He looks at her, fondness evident in his eyes. "Not at all."
Her grin becomes something soft, something delicate and precious. "Glad to hear it."
She reaches for another hair tie and pulls her hair back up. He notices her wince a little as she does so. Concern flutters in his stomach. "Does it hurt?"
She shrugs. "A bit, but only at first. It's because they're new. They'll loosen up soon and I'll be fine."
He's a bit skeptical. "You sure?"
"Yeah, yeah. Don't worry too much. It's not my first time getting box braids, you know."
"Is that what they're called?"
"Mhm. I like them, they're convenient and besides," Her grin this time is cheeky and full of the confidence that inspired him to follow her in the first place, "I look damn good in them."
On that, he agrees. Something about the way they frame her face and how they make her look when they're free to fall down her back just does something for him. Not that he'll ever let her know.
She's got a lot on her plate and he doesn't need to complicate things with whatever sort of feelings he's got for her. All he knows is that he's going to support her no matter what. Even if it means pretending she didn't spend six and a half hours on her hair.