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"Be cool Garrus, be cool. It's just Shepard, I mean, she's just Shepard. You know her, you've known her for a long time. She comes to the main battery all the time just to chat, right?" Garrus muttered to himself. He tripped with his own feet as he opened the main battery's door. Damn it. And I keep telling her I'm busy with calibrations, she knows I'm up to something. I can't tell her about it yet, I have to find a lead or she'll leave everything to help me. I can't let her do that now, I can do it myself. I have to.
"Garrus, just the man, huh, turian I was looking for! You look hungry, you're hungry aren't you? I need to you try something," he rushed to a funny-smelling pot he had simmering by the mess hall's stove.
"Not now, Gardner," Garrus walked hastily towards the elevator.
"That's it, I'm done. From now on you cook your own food or it's just nutrient paste from a can," the cook lifted the spoon. He did that thing humans did with their faces when they wanted to let you know you'd hurt their feelings. He was being dramatic, he knew dramatic: he'd spent time with human politicians on the citadel. "Tali wouldn't try it either, something about getting sick, but don't quarian suits clean themselves up if you...?"
"I promise I'll try your, what was that again? I'll try it as soon as I'm done talking to the commander, how about that."
"I knew I could count on you Garrus, you're the finest turian I know! The classiest! Impeccable taste! You won't be disappointed by—"
"Don't push it," Garrus held the elevator with his talons, giving him a look. The cook laughed nervously.
Garrus chuckled to himself: now to push that button. Up. He clenched his teeth. Nope, he couldn't do it just yet. What was he going to say? Maybe he should use the comms. Easier. Or a private message, it wasn't important. It could easily be sorted with a private message. But Shepard hadn't gone to see him all day, he didn't even catch her during breakfast. He hadn't seen her since they'd been back from the citadel, last afternoon: she went straight to her room and locked herself there. Maybe it was something the council said? Or something about that asshole Kaidan: it took everything in him not to punch him in Horizon. That son of a mangy varren. Talking to Shepard like that. But it hadn't been his place. Shepard had chosen him back then, well, he hadn't even made a move, too much going on, Liara and Kaidan fighting over her, adding himself to the mix would've been inappropriate, but still. He wouldn't push his feelings on her now either, but his shoulder was there for her if she needed it. He was her friend, first, and would be just her friend always if that's what she felt she needed. He took a deep breath. His visor showed his heart didn't feel like stabilizing anytime soon: if anything it threatened to punch out of his armor. He was a sniper, by the spirits, he could steady his pulse in a literal heartbeat, but as he stood outside Shepard's cabin he shook like a salarian on a blind date with a krogan.
He knocked, softly. "Oh, well, I tried," he muttered. He was giving up, it had been a terrible idea.
The door opened.
"Garrus?" Shepard's hair was tuck behind her ears, she wasn't wearing her, now usual, Cerberus uniform but a pair of sweats and an oversized N7 hoodie. She smiled at him, but looked a little confused as she leaned on the door, a hand on her waist. Her very supportive waist. He could feel a drop of sweat forming between his brow plaques.
"I, heh, hum. Hello, Shepard. I was just, walking by," he coughed. That went worse than he expected.
"Sure, all the way up here where there's nothing but my cabin, right? A popular spot to take idle walks," she pursed her lips in a crooked smile. He stood up straighter.
"I'd prefer the cargo bay, it's quieter, lots of room, but there's a certain psychotic biotic bunking in there and I don't want to risk startling her and ending up a blue splatter on the floor," he felt his muscles relaxing.
"Garrus, we both know a little biotic blast won't hurt you. Hell, not even a missile managed to put you down, tough guy. It's Grunt I'd be more worried about, if I were you. I hear he's a little, well, antsy, and a little turian just passing by, one or two memories of Okeer's imprinting, you'll look like an attractive punching bag : just saying. But we'll look into that, don't you worry." Did she say attractive? Surely it must've been a figure of speech, she didn't really mean she found him attractive. He cleared his throat. She scratched her nose, smirking.
"Right. Ahem, we should, I mean, you, the crew, we should look into that, as soon as we can," Garrus fought the urge to hide his face between his hands. I should've sent a private message.
"So, what's the real reason?" she crossed her arms.
"Uh? Right. I, huh. May I come in? I feel a little exposed out here. Kasumi might be hiding somewhere, she keeps insinuating she spies on everyone around here. Unless you'd rather I stay outside, then I most definitely will. I don't want to impose."
Shepard moved from the door, extending an inviting arm.
He'd never been there before. He felt like an intruder, what was he even doing? He should leave. That was Shepard's private space he was invading, her much-needed personal oasis of peace. But she could've refused. Shepard never does anything she doesn't want to. He walked carefully, trying not to touch anything, observing casually. She had a collection of chromed ships, she'd seen her buy them from catalogs but had never actually seen them in the flesh. Her fabled fish collection, a little luxury, but it wasn't a warship anymore, was it? It was a civilian vessel and that was the turian in him talking: the fish were beautiful, to hell with austerity. Shepard was surrounded by everything she loved.
Even a picture of— that guy. He clenched his fists, but he had to be civil.
"Ugh, I've been meaning to get rid of that," she picked up the portrait. "It's silly, I know. It's not about him, not really: to hell with him, after Horizon. I just— If I toss it, I feel like the old me will really be gone, you know? He'll be right. I'm not with Cerberus, and this fucking picture is the only thing that makes me feel like things really haven't changed, at least for a while." She tossed it violently on the desk. A little part of Garrus rejoiced, but only for a moment. Shepard was going through a lot.
"Shepard, please, don't say that. You have Tali now, and Joker's jokes are as terrible as they used to be, Dr Chakwas is still the one who patches you up when you charge on enemies like a krogan," he rubbed his neck. "And I'm still here if you need me," his voice came out like a little croak. You're embarrassing yourself, Vakarian.
"Unless you're busy with calibrations, that is," she sat on her desk chair, made a little circle with her head hanging back.
"Those guns give me a lot of work," he lied. He hated lying to her, specially when he was trying to be supportive. But none needed her rushing to help him find his old associate when there were collectors needing to be stopped. The time would come, but in the meantime, he wouldn't distract her with his problems. "But I'm here now, we can talk about, I don't know, mako spare parts, eh, black market dealers and whatnot: for old times' sake. You don't need that picture, Shepard. Not if it hurts you."
"I know," she sighed, closing her eyes for a moment. "So, tell me, Garrus: what did you need? I could use the distraction."
"I need access to the ship's extranet connection. The good one, in real time. I need to locate— someone important. It can't wait until we land on the citadel again, but it's not a matter of life and death." He added, quickly. Shepard lifted her head. She examined his face for a while, what was she looking for?
"Family?"
"Something like that," it wasn't exactly a lie. That traitor had been like family to him.
Shepard opened her omnitool, entered some codes, underwent a series of verifications. His own omnitool beeped. "Done, Garrus. I hope you find what you're looking for," she smiled. Garrus noticed she briefly reached for his hand, but recoiled in a fraction of a second. Maybe he imagined it.
"Thank you, Shepard. It really means a lot. I'll— I'll let you know when I find them. "
"Always happy to help, Garrus. But, that was it? You don't need me to help you find them? I can turn the ship around, go to Palaven if you need to," She stood up.
"There's no need, but thank you, Shepard. Truly. I just need to get in touch, it's been a while."
"I understand. I haven't spoken to my mother yet, it's going to be one hell of an awkward conversation," she pursed her lips, half smiling. "But really, is there anything else? You came all the way up here just for that. It could've been a private message, you know?" she didn't seem annoyed. Amused, yes. She looked amused. Garrus panicked: she was onto him. Spirits. He had to say something, but nothing he couldn't take back. Nothing serious. He was a friend worried for a friend, as far as she needed to know. She had no time for complicated, no time for a lovesick turian. If she decided she did, maybe, she'd let him know. Maybe he'd let her know after the mission.
"Well, you got me: I wanted to check in on you too. You kind of disappeared on us after talking with Anderson on the citadel. I worry, you know? I've gotten used to you interrupting my calibrations: it's our thing," he crooked his visor with a talon. She laughed softly, shaking her head.
" I guess it really hit me, how much everything's changed these last two years and how little. People still dismiss the reapers, Garrus. We dismissed that claim, I think that's what your councilor said? Word by word. They refuse to see, why won't they listen?"
"So you decided to hide in your room forever?" he joked. "Feed your fish, look at this ugly picture, listen to bad asari pop—"
"It's very catchy," was that a wider smile he was seeing?
"Yes, yes, and so is varren flu," Garrus's heart exploded when he heard her laughing like that. His anxiety was now mostly gone. "And what is this you have here? I hear something moving. Shepard, you shouldn't leave food containers lying around, there are space vermin all over. I saw all sorts of things in Omega."
"Oh, well, if you must know, Garrus: it's a hamster," Shepard looked different now. Glowing. "Look. I picked him up yesterday at citadel souvenirs, they delivered his cage to the Normandy just before we departed. It's a pet, like my fish, only way, way better. Actually, I've been cooped in here playing with the hamster since we departed the citadel. They're very therapeutic creatures."
"A hamster? Uh. Never heard of that before, are they from earth? Oh, I'll have to see that. What does it look like? Oh, don't tell me. I need to see it, show me," he leaned on the little glass cage. That hamster creature had a small house and bedding.
Shepard lowered the cage, slowly, with utmost care, then walked to the back of her cabin towards her bed. Now he really felt like an intruder. That's where she slept. She had a mug, stained with her favorite shade of lipstick, over a coffee table near some couches, way more suitable for showing pets to people than beds. He was a nervous wreck again. Maybe she didn't want the pet to run on her datapads and breakfast leftovers. Her partially undone bed was the most logical choice. Yes. Ahem. Remember to breathe, Garrus.
"Here he is. He doesn't have a name yet, so I call him Hamster for now. Come on, you may pick it up," she had him cupped between her hands. It was tiny, covered in soft orange and white fur; his black eyes were so round and shiny he could see himself reflected on them. He seemed to be so delicate, what if he broke Shepard's pet?. His ears were round and flimsy, his little pink nose wouldn't stop moving. Garrus extended a hand. The hamster stood up in his hindlegs and inspected his gloved hands. He opened his tiny mouth revealing a set of enormous teeth: Garrus jumped back.
Shepard laughed so hard she nearly dropped Hamster. "Garrus, he was yawning. It's the middle of the day, he should be sleeping. He's tired."
"Shepard, Shepard: you can never be too careful with unknown creatures," he tried to hide his embarrassment.
"Oh, Garrus: I'd never put you in danger," she was still laughing.
"Except for taking me on a suicide mission, of course," he joked. He extended his hand again. The hamster sniffed him, then jumped. It was too late to back down now.
"Now you'll see what I'm talking about. Come on, don't be scared, Garrus: you're Archangel, the bane of every merc in Omega. Don't tell me you're afraid of a wee little ball of fur? Let it walk from one hand to the other, like this," she held his hands, positioning them. Garrus was paralyzed, she was touching him. They had touched before, of course: a handshake, a pat on the shoulder, a friendly hug, but this felt more intimate somehow. He couldn't breathe, suddenly. "Garrus, he won't hurt you. If anything, your skin is too thick for Hamster, he won't even make a dent." She misinterpreted his anxiousness for fear to the hamster. Good.
Shepard was right, though. Looking at the hamster come and go from hand to hand was hypnotic. But at one moment the little critter got bored and he got distracted by Shepard's eyes: the hamster walked fast up his arm, too fast, and there was no way he could've stopped him. Real panic came next, when he felt the hamster coming inside his armor. He couldn't help his reaction: he jumped all around the cabin, shaking his armor, his legs: it tickled. The hamster was fast and curious and it made its way inside his clothes. He could hear Shepard's hysterical laughter in the background, "Shepard, take him off, take him off!" it only made her laugh harder. He was at the mercy of the tiny creature. How had things ended up like that? Oh, the betrayal. He realized he was laughing too.
"Garrus, calm down!" Shepard said between fits of laughter. "I can't help you if you don't stop moving. You'll crush my hamster!"
It took everything in him to stop moving. The hamster was so small and it moved so fast, it was incredibly unnerving. But for Shepard: anything. He closed his eyes. He felt his armor loosening.
"Shepard, not in front of the hamster," he joked, and regretted it immediately. The second Shepard took to hit him with a comeback was endless.
"He's been places and seen things already. A little human-turian action won't kill him," she laughed as she said it, but his eyes were closed so he couldn't see her expression. Maybe it was better that way, less embarrassing. His armor was off now, he was on his briefs and t-shirt in Shepard's cabin. Not exactly how he'd expected to end that meeting and not nearly how he always pictured it happening.
"Do you have him? I can't feel him anywhere anymore."
"I have bad news, Garrus: we'll need EDI to fetch us a probe, maybe bring Chakwas in," Garrus knew she was joking, her tone and the explosive laughter that followed gave it away, but he acted appalled and surprised when he opened his eyes. They had a good laugh about it as he hastily put his armor back on.
"Let's never speak of this again," Garrus whispered in Shepard's ear, still laughing, as she put the hamster back in his cage.
"I can't promise that, it's a great party story, you know? That time Garrus had a hamster up his ass."
"Hey: That's not how it happened!" he laughed
"That's how stories work," she shrugged, "I don't make the rules," she walked back to her little office space, put the hamster on the shelf. The tiny guy was getting ready to sleep again. She lingered for a while, in silence, then looked up at him. This time she did hold his hands. "Thank you, Garrus. For stopping by."
"Anything you need, Shepard," Garrus squeezed her hands, softly. She let go.
"Could you do me a favor? Can you toss this on the airlock compactor, if you happen to take a stroll down there."
"Sure thing, Shepard. I was meaning to go visit Zaeed anyway, I've been dying to listen to his stories," he winked.
As soon as Shepard closed her cabin door and he called the elevator, he looked at the picture: time to erase that smile off his face, even if just symbolically. He punched the glass, breaking it. The trash compactor would do the rest.