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Omega black market auctions were always tediously slow and obnoxiously over crowded, but Shepard could never resist a deal. So far though, this auction was turning out to be a bust. Out dated mods and a sorry excuse for a shuttle that had been gutted beyond repair. Nothing interesting in the bunch.
“A-and next we have something that was acquired at great risk to the seller.”
That sounded interesting. She perked up.
“During the clean up after the attack on the Citadel, a lot of very… interesting… leftovers were found.” Murmurs of interest rolled through the room. The crowd of potential buyers pressed forward, pushing into the backs of the people standing in front of them to get a better view of the stage.
The salarian auctioneer raised his hand to his assistant and the assistant nodded to someone off just out of view. A cart was rolled on to the platform, the “interesting” item covered with a white sheet.
Shepard stood on her toes to see over the press of people in front of her. The buzz of interest all around her rose in volume as the seconds stretched on, speculations flung around about what it could possible be. Saren’s preserved body was one of the least troublesome suggestions.
“Geth technology!” the auctioneer roared as his assistant ripped of the sheet with a dramatic flourish that had definitely been practiced. Shepard nearly let out a whoop. “A shotgun with a plasma beam that could blast a hole through a thresher maw!”
He waited patiently until the gasps and conversation died down, his rounded finger tips drumming against his podium.
“Let’s start the bidding at 1,000 credits! Do I have 1,000 credits?”
Shepard raised her numbered paddle.
“1,000 from the woman in red! Do I have 1,100?”
The interest of the other bidders began to wane. It was a bidding war, but Shepard beat them all when she offered 4,900 credits. It was too much, even for exciting geth technology.
“4,900 credits going once! Going twice!”
She wanted that shotgun and she would be damned if she let any of these -
“5,000 from the back!”
“What the shit?” She twisted around, craning her neck to see who had the audacity to out bid her. She raised her paddle. Before the auctioneer could even finish stating her bid, she saw another number wave in the air.
“We’ll see about this.” She lifted her paddle again and started towards her sudden rival, elbowing and pushing through the crowd. The opposer’s paddle rose again and now she could see the fucker who was trying to ruin her day.
Oh, that was unexpected. “Garrus?”
Garrus looked her up and down, his mandibles flaring and eyes settling on her scowling face as she raised her paddle again. “I think you must have me confused for someone else. My name is Jeff.” He waved his paddle in the air to counter her latest offer.
“Jeff isn’t a common turian name, is it?” She countered his counter offer.
“5,500 credits! Is there - “ Garrus rose his paddle - “5,600 credits!”
People were beginning to pay more attention to them than to the stage, a soft murmur spreading out from where they stood facing one another. The shotgun was leaving with one of them, and if others didn’t have a chance at it themselves, at the very least they could appreciate the drama unfold between the two warring parties.
“I was named after a close family friend,” he said with a shrug. “Do you come here often?” He lowered his voice, his translator rumbling as he leaned towards her. “What are you doing after I buy this very illegal weapon at this very illegal auction?”
Shepard raised her paddle to mark her bid and then swatted at his as he attempted to raise the price again.
“You can’t interfere with his bid!” someone sneered from her left side.
“Thank you! He’s right you know, that’s against the rules.” Garrus blinked at Shepard and wiggled his paddle in the air.
She loved when he blinked heavily. It was his way of winking, something either he had never been able to do or that turian’s were incapable of.
“Don’t attempt to seduce me out of this. I know what you’re all about.” She put in another bid.
“I would never employ emotional warfare!” He offered a counter. “Just curious, what have you heard? That I’m a bad boy, right? I have a bit of a reputation.”
“You don’t even carry a shotgun!” she hissed and made another bid.
“You don’t know anything about me, angry stranger.” His arm shot in the air. “But let’s say you were right… let’s say I was buying this for a lovely superior officer that I was hoping to impress?”
She lifted her paddle and glared up at him. “Joker doesn’t use shotguns, either.”
He countered her bid.
“6,400 credits!” the auctioneer bellowed to an appreciative crowd.
“You’re going to make the lady I have waiting for me very angry,” he said when she raised her arm.
“If you’re trying to buy me a gift, I do have to admit this would be an amazing one.”
He outbid her once again. “I don’t even know you. But I am trying to buy this for a very, very special friend.”
“This wasn’t a very well thought out plan,” she countered as she lifted her paddle. “All you’re doing is raising the price.”
“Come on, angry stranger. Can’t you let me win?” He lifted his paddle. “It would be so much more romantic if I bought it.”
“How big is your wallet, Jeff?”
She raised the bid.
Shepard watched the auctioneer box the shotgun with a smug smile. “I probably should have led with the fact that I have a very wealthy backer whose credit I am intent on squandering.”
Her winnings had been the last item auctioned off, and after the roaring crowd had dispersed, many congratulating her and others offering condolences to “Jeff,” the two had headed to the back room with other buyers to collect her 15 thousand credit prize.
“Well if that’s the case, drinks are on you.”
“Ah-ah-ah, I don’t think so. Don’t you have a special friend to get back to?”
She hugged the box close to her chest as they walked back through the now empty room. Garrus followed in silence just a few steps behind. His eyepiece lit up, spots of light purple and white data trailing across the projected screen.
“I don’t think she’s going to want me back after I failed to acquire her a gift,” he finally said, his long legs catching up to her easily.
“She sounds rough.”
He came to a stop, his three fingered hand wrapping around her wrist to keep her from escaping. The boxed shotgun wedged between their chests.
“I have a room nearby,” he said, “just a place to crash for the night. I’m kind of a big deal and I have to take off tomorrow morning.”
“Oh?” She drummed her fingers against the box and pulled her lower lip between her teeth. “What do you do?”
“That’s confidential, angry stranger.”
“Are you asking me to follow you back to your room, Jeff?”
“Did I mention that I’m the secret turian king of a distant world?”
“The way you flirt is shameful.”
He chuckled and took the box from her, shifting it to one hip so he could pull her against him. His ran a talon over the back of her neck and she shivered, her head tilting back. She felt the warmth of his breath tickle against her exposed neck. “Drinks now or later?”
“I don’t think we’ll have time, your majesty.”
“Oh, I like that.” He spun her around, his hand pressing into the small of her back as he directed her towards his newly acquired room. “Can you use that more often?”