Awakening

Chapter Three

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Shepard is stolen out from under Cerberus's nose before they can wake her. The warring factions who still want her body lead her right to Omega… and Garrus. Shepard/Garrus.

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Disclaimer: This author in no way profits from the writing of this story. All characters, dialogue, or other referenced material from the Mass Effect trilogy belong to Bioware.

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"Lizzie!" A bright female voice carried through the base. "Where are you?"

"In here," Shepard called, wiping her greasy hands on a rag as she set down the pistol she'd been working on. "You need something?"

Ripper appeared in the doorway, grinning. "There you are!" Ripper was an asari in her maiden stage, which was where the similarities to Shepard's old friend Liara started and ended. Ripper was the poster child for youthful rebellion, with her brightly dyed crest, multiple piercings, and omni-tattoos. She had a bubbly, cheerful personality that was a bit much at times, but her zeal on the battlefield more than made up for it. One of her favorite topics to bring up was her krogan father. Her mother, who had given Ripper her actual name, Riphania, had yet to be forgiven for her taste in names.

Today Ripper's grin seemed larger than normal, which didn't bode well for Shepard. "Girls night out," was all she said.

Shepard groaned. "Not really my thing."

"It's Mierin's birthday," Ripper added. "You know she never asks for anything!"

Shepard's brows rose. "This was her idea?"

"We-ell…" Ripper hesitated. "Not her idea exactly, but it is what she wants! Promise."

Shepard snorted. "If she's sure. Who else are you dragging out?"

"I'm not dragging anyone!" Ripper insisted. "If I was, Weaver would be going. Melanis and Nalah are happy enough to come for drinks. And I know you can drink like a krogan when you want to. Come on, it'll be fun!"

It was true, Shepard's alcohol tolerance was absurdly high since she'd arrived on Omega, and with Ripper in charge of the outing, the rest of the crew might need a bit of help getting home. Or at least that was a good enough excuse to go, she admitted to herself.

"Alright, alright, I'll go. Let me get cleaned up." She stood from the workbench, covering up what she'd been working on to return to later.

"Great!" Ripper perked up. "And, uh… do you have something, you know… cuter to wear?"

Shepard looked down at herself and frowned. What was wrong with how she dressed?

…

She had to admit, a girls' night out wasn't the worst idea. Shepard was actually having a good time.

Since arriving at Omega, she'd barely left the base. Being a part of Archangel's crew made a person feel a bit paranoid, not to mention the way she'd arrived on the space station, but they were perfectly safe going out like this. No one would recognize them without their armor, and as Shepard had yet to go on a mission with the team, they couldn't possibly associate her with him anyway. She was more in danger of being recognized as Commander Shepard, though she had to admit that no one was likely to peg her as the famous soldier in low rise leather pants, a fully made-up face, and long, flowing hair.

Shepard had insisted on holding the table for the others as they danced, knowing her legs were unlikely to thank her for it. Nalah was the first to return to join her, flushed and laughing.

"Have fun?" Shepard asked, smiling at her new friend.

"Maybe a little too much fun," Nalah admitted, smiling. "I haven't gone out like this in years!"

Shepard grinned. "Do I need to give Butler a hint about taking his wife out on a date?"

She laughed. "Kieran is doing just fine, thank you! I mean with girlfriends."

"It's been a long time for me too," Shepard confessed. "But to be fair, I've never been a girl's girl. I'm no good at makeup or clothes or boy talk–"

"Did someone say boy talk?" Ripper asked excitedly as she, Melanis, and Mierin arrived back at the table. "Slide over," she ordered Shepard, who rolled her eyes but slid further into the booth.

"Speaking of boy talk," Mierin said, her bright blue eyes shining with excitement, "I think Melanis has made a conquest!" She giggled.

Melanis, cool and confident as usual, ran a talon over her crest. "I can't help it that there are so few turian women here."

Nalah snorted. "Even if there were hundreds to choose from, I don't think you'd be having any trouble."

There was amusement and agreement around the table–Melanis was one one the most innately confident women Shepard had ever met, with a sexy swagger that had men of all species turning their heads.

"What about the guys on the team?" Ripper asked with a mischievous gleam in her eyes. "Ever hook up with one of them?"

Melanis laughed. "Gonna need another round of drinks to loosen my tongue," she said, waving over a waitress to put in their drink order.

Shepard wasn't a fan of this turn in the conversation. She had a sudden bolt of anxiety at the idea of Melanis and Garrus hooking up. They were both turian, both extremely attractive, and had both been single. Why wouldn't they hook up? She understood from some bits of conversation back in the Normandy days that turians were, in general, pretty casual about dating around and sexual relationships. It all made such perfect, awful sense.

Melanis turned back to the group after sending the waitress on her way. "I'll admit, there was some pretty heavy flirtation with Garrus when we first met, but I think he just wanted to see what kind of person I was before letting me in on the big secret. So you can relax, Liz," she teased, turning to Shepard.

Shepard jumped a little in her seat, and pulled her drink to her lips in an attempt to hide the blush that was sure to turn her face as red as her hair. "I don't know what you're talking about," she managed to get out before downing the last of her drink.

To this there was no end of ribbing and laughter. "Come on!" Ripper said, laughing harder than ever. "There is no point in pretending you aren't an item. You're practically attached at the hip. You sleep with him every night!"

"Sleep next to him every night," Shepard muttered, and regretted it immediately.

"You haven't had sex with him?" Mierin asked, one blue hand gripping the edge of the table as she leaned forward. "Did you make a vow of celibacy?"

"No!" Shepard protested. "It's complicated."

"But you do care for him?" Melanis asked, her eyes suddenly intense as they met Shepard's.

Shepard bit her lip, but had come this far. She may as well confess it all. "Yes, more than I ever imagined when we reconnected. He was a good friend before, but now he's…" She shrugged. "Just… more."

She heard an "Aww from the direction of Nalah and Mierin, and Ripper had a maniacal smile on her face when Shepard dared glance her way.

Melanis wasn't smiling, but her expression was intent as she stared at Shepard. "Come on, Liz, why don't you come to the bar with me and help check up on those drinks?"

She all but dragged Shepard out of the booth and towards the bar, to the tune of protests from the others who seemed disappointed at the loss of their current entertainment.

"Thought you might need to get out of there for a sec," Melanis said as they moved towards the bar.

"I did, thanks," Shepard admitted.

Melanis approached the bartender. "Wanted to check on our order. It was two Thessian Sunrises, one Long Island Iced Tea, a Twisted Sister, and, what was yours again, Liz?"

"An Old Fashioned," Shepard supplied.

The batarian nodded. "Just a moment," he said and turned back behind the bar.

"Has Garrus said anything about what this is between you?" Melanis asked.

"Not said anything exactly," Shepard said, clenching her hands together. "There's been a little flirting, but nothing too obvious. And he's doing this… taking care of people thing that he does. It's pretty cute," she added, warming to the subject. "But I think he's afraid to say anything outright." And so am I, she didn't add. What they had going on was so good already, it's like neither of them wanted to break the spell and ruin it.

The bartender returned with their drinks. "Here you go, miss," he said to Melanis, before briefly turning his eyes on Shepard. "Enjoy."

Instead of heading back to their table, Melanis pulled Shepard into a back hallway, near the restrooms, and set the tray of drinks down.

"I think you should know," she said, looking seriously at Shepard. "If Garrus is sleeping next to you every night but not sleeping with you, it must mean he's really serious about this."

Melanis's eyes were so earnest it scared Shepard. She grabbed her drink off the tray and practically downed it. Her heart was pounding. "Good to know," she finally said in return.

"You won't hurt him, will you? He means a lot to us, all of us."

I won't, were the words on her tongue, but instead she felt suddenly nauseated, the edges of her vision going dark. She looked down at the glass at her hand and watched it fall to the ground, unable to stop it. And that was the last she remembered.

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"I want that bartender," growled a familiar voice. "We need to know what he knows. He won't get away with this."

Shepard let out an involuntary groan as she came to awareness. She didn't dare open her eyes the way her head was pounding, but she felt a warm hand in each of her own.

She heard Nalah's teary voice in her ear. "It's okay Liz, we're taking care of everything."

"What…" Shepard managed a whisper.

"That batarian bastard of a bartender poisoned you," Melanis said viciously.

Shepard opened her eyes slowly, blinking to try to clear away the blurriness. The light above stung her eyes until it was replaced by a large shadow.

"Everything's going to be fine, Beth," Garrus said, looming above her. "Just rest."

She didn't have the strength or time to protest before Garrus was distracted by the door. "Got 'im, boss," she heard Vortash say. "They're on the way back. And the doctor's here."

"Let Mordin do his job," Garrus ordered her, and was gone. In moments, he was replaced by Mordin and Shepard was resigned to her fate of being poked and prodded. But if he could make her feel less like death, it might be worth it this time.

…

The batarian was bound and beaten already when Archangel entered the room. Every movement spoke of restrained rage. He stopped short of the bartender and stared down at him. His voice was low and cruel. "Time to confess your sins, batarian."

He looked at Butler, Krul, and Sidonis. "Clear the room. I have work to do."

…

When Garrus returned to the others, he was pleased to see Shepard sitting up between Nalah and Melanis, still looking sick but worlds better than before. Mordin was gone, presumably having done all he could before leaving.

"It's taken care of," he said with finality. He nodded at Monteague and Mierin who slipped out of the room. They would take on the clean-up tonight.

"Why target Liz?" Mierin asked. "Was it because of how we found her? Or because of the team?"

Garrus looked past Mierin to meet Shepard's eyes. "He didn't target her specifically. He just hates humans. Beth wasn't his first. She was just the first to survive. Today, he poisoned the wrong one." His voice was low and still full of anger.

Shepard felt sick at the thought of the ones who hadn't survived, but she couldn't help a sense of relief too—that the bartender hadn't known who she was or that she was with Archangel.

Butler came forward to tug Nalah into a hug. "It could have been you. Thank god," he muttered.

"Everyone can return home now or to the base," Garrus told the room. "Stagger your times and remove this location from your maps." This warehouse, one of many safe houses they had around Omega, could be considered compromised now. Too many of them had arrived too quickly, some in armor and some without. It wouldn't be safe to return.

Garrus took Nalah's place beside Shepard now as the husband and wife duo prepared to leave. "Can you walk back?"

"Yeah," she said, giving him a pained smile. "Mostly just feeling hungover anymore, Mordin gave me something."

He glanced past her to Melanis, who nodded, and he was satisfied. "I'd better take her home, boss," the turian said. "You can't be seen with her like that." She motioned to his Archangel armor.

Garrus wanted to protest, but knew she was right. He would follow at a safe distance instead.

Monteague and Mierin had yet to return, but he wasn't worried. Those two could sometimes get a little creative during clean-up duty. While the body would not necessarily be attributed to Archangel when they were done, there was a good chance of the dead batarian ending up on the news feeds regardless. He suspected some of his team had a running bet about whose clean-up jobs could get the most airtime. Garrus wouldn't interfere. Whatever helped get the job done was alright in his book.

He watched the two women prepare to leave and waited a couple of minutes before following. His caution ended up being unnecessary and they reached the base without issue.

Shepard was getting changed when he reached their shared room, and he was treated to the sight of her bare back for a moment before a large tee slipped over it. He was entranced, in that instant, by the muscles moving under pale, soft skin, a sight that couldn't be marred even by her remaining glowing scars.

"Can we talk?" she asked as she turned around. She sat on the bed and patted the space beside herself.

"Of course," Garrus replied, following her to sit. "What's on your mind?"

Her expression was hesitant. "What happened to the bartender?"

Garrus's answer was immediate. "He got a taste of his own medicine," he said, voice tinged with satisfaction.

"You killed him?" she asked. "That's not the way I like to do things," she said. "You know that." Her voice got hard.

Garrus felt irritation rising in him. "You don't know Omega like I do," he said, voice hard. "Who do you suggest I turn him in to? Where do you plan on having him locked up? Or do you think a stern conversation should suffice?" By the end, his sarcasm was in full form. "He was a serial killer, Elizabeth. I couldn't just leave him out there on the streets!"

Shepard's eyes blazed. "You didn't even talk to me! You just went off and 'took care of it' without a word!"

"You're going to have to forgive me for not asking a person near death for advice on how to handle their would-be murderer! This is what I do, what Archangel does," he said, voice harsher than she'd ever heard it before. "I'm the leader and I make those decisions. You're not the commander here." He regretted the hurt in her eyes, but not his words. She needed to understand if she was going to stay.

Shepard closed her eyes, hands fisted in the bedding. "It's not so easy to hear that," she admitted, eyes glassy as they opened again. "I'm nobody anymore. Just a ghost."

At that admission, Garrus's anger fled. "You're somebody to me."

She took a deep breath. "I'm not going to agree with all your decisions. But I guess I can learn to trust you regardless. And I do," she said, meeting his eyes. "I trust you with my life."

Garrus sensed, more than saw, her lean forward a little, and he pulled her into a bone-crushing hug against his chest. "Don't scare me like that again," he murmured against her hair. "You could have died. What would I do without you?"

"You would keep going," she said confidently. "You did it before."

Garrus let out a choked laugh. "I ran away to the ass-end of the galaxy last time. Don't you see how much worse it would be now? Where could I possibly run from my memories of you?"

Shepard pulled back, stared at him, and then crashed her lips into his mouth so fast that he was too shocked to move. But spirits, he responded as soon as he could, pulling her even closer and trying to move his lip plates in response to her wonderfully warm human lips.

Eventually, after an eternity and still far too short, Shepard pulled away. "I hope that was okay," she said finally. Her eyes had never been so bright.

"More than okay," Garrus answered, his arms still around her. The last thing he wanted to do was let go now. He tried to clear his head. "You should sleep," he said. "You need rest to recover. We can talk more in the morning." Without his hands ever leaving her body, he helped lay her down and pull the covers over them both. "Just know that I've wanted this for a very long time."

While Shepard looked like she wanted to protest, she was visibly exhausted. As her eyes drifted closed, she said, "There was one more good bit of news today." She blinked them open long enough to meet Garrus's questioning gaze. "Mordin asked me to come by this week. He has a plan for my legs."

The poisoner had been all but forgotten now, and Garrus wondered if one could be too happy to fall asleep. He sat up, scrolling his omni-tool, but couldn't help stealing looks at Shepard as she slept. She was real and alive and his. No poison or gangs or even threat of the Collectors could taint this moment.

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