Work Text:
The rapidly approaching winter holiday is something that supersedes even the threat of the Reapers, offering humanity a chance to breathe, even if only for a few days, to hope and remember the world they’re fighting for.
In this, perhaps especially in this, it seems Natasha Shepard is no exception.
Which is why, despite the bulk of her senior crewmen being not only of a different religion or philosophy but a variety of different species altogether, she finds herself roaming the Citadel from the wards to the Presidium in search of the perfect gifts to give this Christmas season.
She had a quickly approaching deadline - which was the price of starting one’s shopping only a week before the event – and time was not on her side. In her defense, she did have other things on her mind and only an impromptu question from EDI about the ‘human spirit coming out around the holidays’ afforded her the opportunity to make the connection between the glowing December 18th on her terminals interface and the once-but-no-longer pagan celebration.
Hence why, at this moment, now only five days from the cursed blessed holiday, the commander was once again pounding the pavement, so to speak, in pursuit of gift-related perfection. At least today she wasn’t alone, having convinced a certain quarian to accompany her on her merry quest.
“What about one of these?” Tali asked, pointing towards a holographic advert for sniper rifle and other firearm attachments. “I’m sure one of them all but has Garrus’ name on it already,”
Natasha’s gaze flickered momentarily away from her less-than-casual perusal of the nearby asari-run lingerie store. “Nice but ‘snot really what I’m lookin’ for,”
Tali tilted her head to the side, eyes narrowing slightly behind her mask. ‘What are you looking for, exactly?” she asked, suspicion coloring her tone as she followed the commanders line of sight. And honestly? She was getting tired; it seemed like they’d spent forever walking up and down the Citadel’s many staircases with almost nothing to show for it.
She offered her a one-armed shrug. “Not sure yet; I’ll know it when I see it,”
“But isn’t the point of this ‘x-mas’ to buy things you know the other person will like?” she asked. “You know Garrus likes rifles; everyone knows Garrus likes rifles. Actually, I’m not sure ‘likes’ is even a strong enough word,” she chuckled, the sound coming through her filter in a rush of static.
Natasha couldn’t help but smile as she turned to face her quarian friend. “True but…Christmas ain’t always about buyin’ things ya need. Sometimes, it’s about buyin’ things ya’d never buy for yerself, things that don’t have a use but…a meanin’,”
She couldn’t help but frown. “I don’t understand,”
Shepard, for her part, supposed that it did sound a little strange; perhaps especially to a quarian, who spent almost all of their lives living in a way where space was considered a luxury one didn’t waste on knickknacks.
“Maybe I’m not explainin’ it right,” she admitted after a moment, turning her eyes to a nearby window display. “Not like I got a lotta experience, ya know?”
Watching the commanders expression dim, gaze growing dark in a way experience had taught her meant nothing good, she reached out, resting a three-fingered hand on Shepard’s arm. She’d just opened her mouth to reassure her friend when she got an idea; hopefully, it was a good one. “What about some of that dextro hot chocolate Dr. Chakwas picked up a few months ago?” she suggested hesitantly. “Garrus said it reminded him of Palaven,”
In an instant, Natasha’s growing melancholy vanished, only to be replaced with a merry smile and that same childish eagerness in her eyes, the sight of which had made Tali abandon her day of second-hand part perusal to join her commander in the first place. “Now yer gettin’ it,” she said, words heavy with fondness as she nudged the petite quaruans shoulder with her own “Come on; I think I saw some back on Level 27,” she prompted brightly, moving towards the stairs.
Tali took a moment to shake her head, chuckling slightly under her breath. Perhaps she’d never understand the humans or their multitude of odd customs but she liked to think she understood Shepard and, for whatever reason, this was important to her; a quick message to the non-human senior crewman would make sure it was important to all of them.
Shepard, having realized she wasn’t being followed, paused at the entrance to the stairs. “Somethin’ wrong, Tali?” she asked the stationary quarian.
She looked up from her omni-tool display, not having realized she’d stopped walking. “It’s nothing, Shepard,” she assured her, exiting the message center even as she moved to catch up with her companion. “I’m right behind you,”
“Always,”