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Their carriage rattled up the steep mountains of the province of Anadius, Joker’s skilled hands on the reins keeping them on the narrow, rutted roads.
“This is almost certainly a trap, right?” Garrus drawled. His sardonic grin twisted the scars on his cheek; his fingers flexed and tightened again on the grip of his rifle like it was a string of worry beads.
Across from him, Tali blinked. “Oh, I just sort of assume every mission is a trap.” That earned a grunted laugh from Jane Shepard - the Daywalker herself, staring out the carriage’s window in a perfectly atmospheric brood. “Somehow it feels safer that way.” Her brow furrows under the delicate scarf that covers her hair. “You can tell us if you’re worried, you know,” she added quietly.
“Mm? What gave it away? The distant stare? Or the fact that we’re going up against the vampire who half-turned me?” She paused, leaning into Tali’s comforting hand on her shoulder. “Worst part is there’s nothing more to do at this point. Just wait, and think.”
“I know how you feel,” Garrus agreed. “I’d be quadruple-checking my cartridges at this point if this damned road wasn’t so bumpy.”
“Mmm, and here I thought you were going to suggest something else we could do to pass the time,” Tali purred, pressing a kiss to Shepard’s cheek. Shepard turned, almost on instinct, and kissed Tali on the forehead, then leaned across the carriage to kiss Garrus.
“With our luck, we’ll run into werewolves on the road.” Shepard sighed. “I’d almost relish the distraction, but I hate fighting with my pants down.” Another sigh, then: “Joker, how long to Cronos Castle?”
“Hm, let me just check the guidebooks for ‘super secret creepy vampire lairs’,” their driver called back. “Huh, what do you know? Nothing!”
Shepard rolled her eyes and leaned back against the thin padding of the carriage’s bench. “Just to be clear, how many werewolves do you think we could handle naked?”