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Spirits, this place was loud . The moment Garrus stepped foot into the Silver Coast Casino he could hear the music coming from upstairs; now as he headed up to the bar the beat thrummed through his carapace. Swaying bodies and pulsating lights filled the darkened room. But there was Shepard, comfortingly punctual and waiting for him at the bar. Good, they could have the drink they’d planned and then get back to work. Certainly they both had enough to last through this shore leave and even beyond.
Garrus ducked his way through the dancers, dodging a few elbows in the process. “Shepard,” he said as he sat down next to her. His omnitool pinged, probably another message from Victus. He should look at that–no, no, one drink. Then read that message… and the other five he’d received in the last ten minutes.
That slow smile of hers spread across her face, making his traitorous heart flip-flop slightly. It was so rare to see her smile these days, he couldn’t help but offer a slight smile back.
“So what do turians usually do with their time off?” she asked, casually leaning on the bar.
Oh, a culture lesson. It’d been a while since they’d just chatted like this. “Mostly we make plans for what to do when we’re back at work. I–I have some ideas on the Normandy’s forward canon–”
But she stopped him. “You know what you need, Garrus?”
“That Mark-4 silencer scope I saw at the gun shop?” He’d seen it displayed in the window on the way over, matte and sleek and just oh so deadly.
She laughed slightly, as if he was joking. “I was thinking a date.”
The idea hit the front of his crest and bounced to the floor. He blinked once, twice. What? Was she–
Then he noticed her eyes looking pointedly behind his shoulder. Garrus turned to see a turian woman, slinking her way to the bar behind them. Oh. An all too familiar feeling of disappointment filled his chest as he turned back to Shepard.
Her eyebrow quirked up. ‘Well?’
“No,” he said, firmly, turning back to the bar and looking for a bartender to order that drink. Something strong.
“Oh, come on .” Her hand rested on his arm, palm warm enough to feel it through the sleeve of his shirt. “I’ve known you for years now, and you’re my best friend, I feel like I’ve been failing on my required wing-man duties.”
He shook his head. “You really don’t have to.”
“Let me help. She’s pretty… I think.” He gave her a very flat look. “Alright. So if not her…” She turned around in her seat, scoping out the bar. He glanced Shepard’s way, admiring how the flashing lights of the bar reflected in her eyes. She wouldn’t find who he really wanted out on the dance floor. “How about him?” She nodded in the general direction of the other side of the room, but Garrus didn’t bother looking.
“I don’t have time–”
“I’m not saying you have to get married, but sharing a drink and seeing where the night may take you might help you relax .”
“I thought that’s what we were doing.”
“I–” She blinked and looked back at him. “What?”
“I thought we were getting a drink together to relax…” Her cheeks had turned a soft shade of pink, and his visor informed him that her pulse had spiked. “Weren’t we?”
“Oh.” Her lips pulled tight for a split second, and she turned back to the bar. “You’re right, we were–are.”
The bartender floated by and took their drink orders. The whole time Garrus felt like he’d somehow stumbled into something accidentally and then tripped his way back out of it. Some sort of cultural misunderstanding. Course they’d had a lot of those over the years, though it’d been awhile since there’d been one that felt like this. Not since… well, not since he’d made a half-hearted, half hopeful-yet-terrified-that-she’d-say-yes attempt at flirting not too long after the Sidonis matter.
He glanced over at Shepard, who was sipping her drink, the pink gone out of her cheeks and pulse back to normal.
“I feel like I said something wrong…” he said as quietly as he could while still being heard over the music.
She looked up at him. “No, no, you’re fine. ...Sorry I was pushing. You’ve just seemed… well, tense is putting it mildly. I wanted to help, if I could.”
“You’re one to talk.”
A bitter grin tweaked up a corner of her mouth. “Yeah… yeah, I am.” She took another sip and shook her head slightly. “You know what I miss?”
“What?”
“Hanging out at the Mako with you. Talking with you about C-Sec and–” She chuckled. “–and krogan testicles while you put the Mako back together and I filled out reports. Those were good times.”
He nodded slowly. “They were. ...Feels like a lifetime ago.”
“It was. For me anyway.”
He grunted and took a sip, still not quite ready to laugh at jokes about her untimely demise. At this point he was starting to doubt he ever would. “I’d never had someone, especially a superior, listen like you did. ...Like you do.”
She scoffed. “I’m not your superior anymore–basically everyone out ranks me except maybe Joker.”
“You still listen.”
“Well… I don’t play favorites, but if I did…” She just smiled for the end of her sentence.
A deeply flattered rumble echoed from his subvocals, loud enough for the female turian near the end of the bar to look their way. Thank the Spirits Shepard couldn’t hear them; she was smart enough and knew him well enough to immediately spot the hidden truth if she knew to look for it.
“You’re…” Her eyes met his and though the words didn’t change, somehow the meaning did just from holding her gaze. “You’re my favorite.”
The pink returned to her cheeks as her eyes seemed to sparkle and time stretched towards infinity. If he was a bolder turian, or perhaps one not quite so painfully aware of how easily he could screw this up, he would reach for her hand, slip an arm around her waist, press his brow to hers. But terrible outcome after terrible outcome stacked up, far out-weighing the near impossible chance that perhaps she’d kiss him back.
Though half-way through his decision to not risk anything, Shepard seemed to have made her own choice. She reached out and slid her hand under his, intertwining her fingers between his so easily it was like he’d been made for her. He could feel her pulse through her palm on his, thundering but steady.
“You’re my favorite too,” she said quietly.
Of course Shepard could make the impossible possible. Of course she could–even for them. Especially for them.
He squeezed her hand, holding onto it for fear of floating out of his chair, and reached for her with the other, pulling her close with a gentle hand cupping the back of her head. She filled his vision, filled all of his senses as they hovered close for a final breath.
“I feel like I should have told you before now… it’s been you for a while,” she said, her breath brushing across his face plates.
“Me too–you… too, I mean. I–Dammit–”
“Garrus, just kiss me.”
She was smiling so brightly it splintered into a breathless laugh, one that he echoed before pressing his brow to hers and thrumming with every feeling he’d stuffed down over the last two years.
“Do you… want to go back to my place and see where the evening takes us?” she asked, not moving from his embrace.
“I’m right behind you, Shepard.”