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It would be reasonable to assume that Garrus has seen enough of Omega to last a lifetime and yet..”You need a new gun.”
Shepard rolls her eyes,“I really don’t”
“Oh yes, you do.”, he practically drags her out of the Normandy and into the market. They were just supposed to pick up Zaeed, but Garrus took one look at Shepard’s sidearm and decided that she must be in desperate need of a new one.
“Garrus, I’m a biotic. I don’t need a high standard gun.”
“Yes, you do. What do you do when your biotics are in cooldown?”
“Melee”
He sighs. “You will get yourself killed.”
“I already did and a lack of guns had nothing to do with it.” Out of the corner of her eye she catches a movement. It almost seems like Garrus is wincing at the mention of her death. That’s odd.
As they get closer to the market Shepard pulls up her hood and hooks her arm through Garrus’ to appear more like a normal buyer and less like a recently revived super soldier. She never got to acclimatize to being famous and as a result has come to deeply detest it. As far as Shepard is concerned everything would go much more smoothly if people would just leave her alone and let her do her job.
Garrus looks at her arm and laughs. “You making a move on me, Shepard?”
She grins. “Just trying to be look more normal.”
“I don’t think a human linked in to a Turian is a very normal sight.”
“Point taken”, Shepard admits, but doesn’t move her arm. Garrus doesn’t make any effort to pull away either.
He does however keep joking. “Don’t mind us, just strolling around looking for a gun, so my friend here wont get herself killed.”
“Again”
This time Shepard is sure Garrus arm around hers tightens. “Again”
It takes some time and a lot of complaining from both of them but they do manage to settle on a gun that Shepard finds comfortable and Garrus finds safe. They end up in a nice little cafe, Shepard would never have expected on Omega. The station just doesn’t seem like a place for cafes to her.
“Look at us”, she extends her arms. “Having coffee on a space station, where we just picked up a mercenary and you spent two very eventful years being a vigilante. What a great date.”
Garrus chokes. “This is a date?!”
“It is if we want it to be”, she was only joking in the beginning, but his response makes her wonder. What if.
“Do...we want it to be?”, Garrus asks, carefully.
“I can only speak for myself…”
“You started this, Shepard. Don’t dance around now.”
She can’t help but smile. “Yeah, okay. Speaking for myself: I would want it to be.”
Garrus lets out an obvious sigh of relief and Shepard’s smile grows even bigger. “Yes, great, good, amazing. Me too, I mean.”
“Then”, she claps her hands together. “It is.”