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Their first Christmas together Jane shot her eye out, and during their second she was pretty sure Garrus was going to freeze to death.
Side-by-side they stood outside a recreation center on the Citadel, looking up at the promotional poster advertising winter holiday activities. All I Want for Christmas Is You jingled from overhead speakers.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Jane asked.
Dread darkened Garrus’s eyes. With a bit too much chipper in his voice, he said, “Yeah, I’m all bundled up” — as if to reassure himself he pulled his thick beanie down to his browplates “—and it can’t take too long to build a snowman, right?”
Last week while walking past she’d asked if they could go, and she’d done so with too much excitement and not enough sense. Turians hate the cold. Garrus was going to be miserable.
Before she could suggest they find something else to do prior to meeting his family for the Anivia Vocan viewing, Garrus’s hand landed on her back and he shoved her through the artificially frosted front doors.
“It won’t be—” his mandibles popped out so wide she was afraid they’d get stuck like that and he nearly folded in on himself. The frost on the doors may have been fake, but the frigid temperature inside was real. Real god damn cold. The icy air hit him at the same time it hit her, and while it made her tense, she expected him to fall over immediately, like a flash-frozen turian popsicle.
Garrus forced a laugh, though, and got back to pushing her onward. “It’s not as bad as I expected.”
She protested, he shoved, but they made it inside to the football field sized interior. Snowflakes drifted from the domed ceiling and real, actual, manufactured snow packed fields and hills. It was a scene fit for wintery fun. Humans and non-humans flecked almost every foot of the place in the middle of snowball fights, sled riding, and building snowmen.
Jane eyed the scene with a toothy grin. Garrus eyed it with a toothy “I’m totally having fun” grimace that he probably thought looked like a smile.
They grabbed a complimentary bag of snowman making supplies at the front counter, then Jane chose an open spot and they headed in that direction.
Garrus’s first footstep into the snow was akin to a cat placing a single paw into water, with much trepidation quickly followed by a yowl.
Yes, he yowled. So loud that it drew looks from a few nearby families. A turian holding hands with an asari watched Garrus with sympathy.
Let’s leave Jane said with a look, but he kept shoving her onward through the snow that reached her knees, but only his ankles. After the short trek, she tossed her supplies down, got to her knees, and started patting fistfulls of snow into a ball.
Garrus shifted his feet, like that would keep them from getting cold. “So we just, uh, make balls of snow and stack em up?”
“I guess so,” she said. “I don’t think it’s really a science.”
Slowly, he got to his knees and a full body shudder rippled through his muscles and his subvocals.
“How about I sing you a Christmas song to distract you,” Jane said. “This one’s topical, but I don’t remember all the lyrics, so bear with me.”
“Frosty the Snowman
Was a jolly happy soul
And was made out of snow”
Garrus smiled because her notes didn’t hit quite correctly, but she smiled back and kept singing. As she sang he dug his massive hands in the snow, so it had to be helping.
“With a big hat and a carrot nose
And eyes made out of coal
Frosty the Snowman
He came to life one day”
She hummed through some of the lines at that point, no idea what they were.
“And he began to dance around”
“A snowman mech?”
“No, like a person.”
“The snowman became sentient?”
“It’s a mythical tale type thing,” Jane said with a hand wave, and giggled inwardly because a lump on the bottom ball looked kind of like a hipspur. Scooping up snow, she packed on a bit more to emphasize the curve and tip, then gave it a handsy squeeze.
“Frosty the Snowman
Knew the sun was hot that day
So he said, Let's run and have some fun
Before I melt away
Frosty the Snowman
Had to hurry on his way
So he waved good-bye, saying, Don't you cry”
“It sure was fun to plaaayyyyyy.”
As she sang the last note off key but with tremendous enthusiasm a little trill came out of Garrus. “Is that an upbeat song about snow that comes to life, and then dies in front of all the children it played with?”
“Well, yeah.”
“Why are humans so cruel and grim?”
“I don’t know Garrus, it’s just a kids song.”
He stopped digging in the snow to gape at her, as if she’d just killed Frosty herself. “ Kids sing it? Spirits. I’m guessing the presents you receive are to convince you all to stop crying.”
Garrus sort of had a point about the song, and her fingers were honestly getting a bit numb, but Jane rolled her eyes at his behavior anyhow. “Tighten your mandibles and use those gigantic mitts of yours to help me make a snowman.”
He begrudgingly slapped additional snow on the bottom ball she’d started, then shivered and shoved his hands under his arms. His hands were so damned big he’d actually made a huge impact in that single attempt, so she didn't complain about his unimpressive effort.
“If you want to hear something really dark,” she said, “I can tell you about Krampus.”
He scooped up more snow, packed it on, then assessed their work and brushed to the ground some of the snow she’d just added, shaping the ball into a more perfect sphere. Apparently snowman-making was a science.
“Is Krampus a monster that eats all the crying kids?” he muttered, smoothing out the snowman’s hipspur, too.
They rose to their feet and began building up the middle ball.
“Wait, where did you learn about Krampus?”
She only realized he’d been joking with that whole eating kids comment when a surprised scowl struck Garrus’s expression.
“I don’t want to celebrate Christmas with you anymore,” he said, shaking his head. “Last year you shot yourself in the face and this year you teach me about dying snowmen and devoured children. It’s really not a joyful season, no matter how much you humans try to sell it with that label. It’s the season of catastrophe and trauma.”
“You are such a grump! I tried to sing you a song so you’d enjoy this.”
“People don’t usually enjoy a slow death, Jane.”
“It’s not cold enough to kill you, you big baby.”
He flicked her a grin and kept packing on the snow. “I was talking about your singing.”
“You bastard,” she said through huffing laughter, then promptly bent over, scooped up a huge wad of snow, made a perfect, hard packed ball, and chucked it at him, laughing even harder as it exploded into a puff of white upon impacting his chest.
Garrus got a mean look in his sharpened eyes that made her heart thump. Before she even had time to think let alone try to dodge, he barreled into her, scooping her right off the ground. Chuckling so hard her abs clenched, she wrapped her legs around his hips, used her weight to angle them perfectly and…
“No Jane please,” Garrus sputtered, trying to put her down.
She was too fast and her thighs were too strong though, so it was too late for him. Using a move Nihlus had taught her, she tilted them both backwards and as one huge lump, they fell into a bank of snow, both groaning as they jolted on the ground.
They laid there, him on his back and her clinging to him like a child, for a moment and then burst into laughter.
“You just proved my point.” His arms held her tight, snuggling her against his shivering body for warmth. She in turn blanketed his body with hers, hoping to help, and buried her cold nose into his warm chest. “Humans are cruel.”
“True, it’s a good thing we’re still friends.”
He huffed, but she could feel his chest rising with soft chuckles, and his mandibles jittering in her hair.
“Let’s finish this snowman, take a picture with it to send to Gran and Papa, and we’ll go get you a hot coffee before we meet your family at the planetarium.”
Garrus brushed her hair from his mandible and after she rolled from his body he straightened her disheveled beanie. “Okay. I’m gonna need a hot shower too, though.”
Work was quick because they were both shivering. With only a few teasing remarks, she let him put entirely too much effort into the structural integrity and symmetry. Silly, handsome, uptight turian.
Once finished, they took a picture with the snowman, one of them on each side kneeling next to it with wide smiles and flushed noses — Garrus’s blue and Jane’s red. She sent it off to Gran and Papa and a call pinged on her omnitool. Halfway across the galaxy, they were sitting upright in bed in their pjs, the blue glow of the vidscreen casting over them. They smiled and waved as Jane picked up and Garrus leaned into the frame.
“My first snowman,” Jane beamed.
“It’s lovely, Pumpkin,” Gran said with an enthusiastic thumbs up.
Papa smirked. “Don’t you mean snow men ? Frosty the Snowman and Frosty the Turian.”
Garrus and Jane both laughed, Gran swatted at Papa’s forearm.
They spent only a few minutes talking to her grandparents — Garrus was going to freeze to death if they didn’t get out of the cold.
“Love you guys,” Gran and Papa said with goodbye waves. “Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas,” Jane and Garrus said and hung up.
Jane brushed some snow from Garrus’s chest and smiled up at him. “Come on, Frosty. Let’s get you warmed up.”
⛄️ ⛄️ ⛄️
Thoroughly thawed out thanks to a large coffee and a hot shower, Garrus trailed after Jane, his feet pounding against the pavement. As soon as they’d pulled up to the port, she’d leapt from the skycar, running ahead to promise his family they’d arrived and to not go in without them. He’d stood under the scalding water in Jane’s massive shower sighing in relief a little too long.
Heart pounding from his jog, he rounded the corner to the planetarium's main entrance, immediately spotting Jane’s red hair, then his mom’s teal shawl and his sister in her sky blue shawl. Jane brushed a stray hair from her brow —she’d just arrived before him. Sometimes they both forgot that her short legs didn’t cover as much ground as his much longer set.
Closing in, his heart began to pound for a different reason. Before he even joined them, he heard them, his family’s subvocals kicking up, rippling in greeting to Jane. Not just a typical greeting given to close friends, but the soft, warm, soothing hello reserved for family. His sister, mom, and dad were greeting Jane as a family member. Calling her family.
They were close, of course, she’d seamlessly woven into their lives the past four years, but they’d never called her family before. The sight and the sound caused too many thoughts and none at all. Feet barely lifting from the ground, heart pattering, he watched his dad wrap his hand around Jane’s forearm, his sister and mom laughing softly, and Jane smiling wide and happy.
And Jane couldn’t even hear their subvocals calling her family .
Would they tell her? It probably wouldn't occur to them to say the words out loud, or that Jane could’t hear their subvocals because so many were within human hearing range. Some of the more emotional ones weren’t, though. Like the deepest keens, or the rich ripples of ardent love.
He probably should tell her, but his feelings were growing so incredibly confusing. How could he tell her that his family thought of her as one of them, and not reveal to her in the same breath, in some detectable way, that he wanted more than friendship from her? A slippery slope began with “My parents and sister think of you as a family member” and ended in a surprising and tangled heap of “I wish you were my mate, not just my best friend”.
Later. It was something to worry about later, even though Jane would love to know that they thought of her that way. She probably thought of them as family too. He’d tell her once he got ahold of his feelings.
Stepping to Jane’s side, Garrus joined them and noticed the small, flat box wrapped in green, red, and gold paper and bows resting in his mom’s hands. Though he didn’t know they’d bought Jane a Christmas present, he could guess what gift lay inside; his mother had a small collection of boxes of that exact size and shape in her closet.
“Are we ready to go in?” Jane asked, checking the time on her omnitool and pivoting towards the doors.
“Wait,” his mom said, folding a hand around Jane’s arm. “At Christmas you give presents.”
Jane glanced down at the box and nodded. Just from the little tilt of her head and the earnest look in her sparkling green eyes Garrus knew that she felt guilty for not getting them anything, that her heart was melting, and she felt grateful. Aside from the guilt, he felt the same.
His mom offered Jane the box. “We wanted to get you something that would show you how much you mean to us. That would show you how much we appreciate you, and that we cherish our time with you.”
“Val, that’s…” Jane sighed a shuddering breath. Leaning against Garrus, she pressed into his side. Sometimes people needed comfort and reassurance during happy moments, too; they simply needed to know that the moment was real. Jane was always so fulfilled in life that she never expected anything grandiose from anyone, so she accepted the box with timid hands.
“Open it,” his mom urged with a mandible flaring smile.
They watched as Jane lifted a taped flap of paper, then another, so carefully. So much more carefully than the presents he gave her. Shreds of paper still piled her apartment floor, left there on purpose because Rocket enjoyed diving under the swaths, flailing around while making a racket.
Jane finally slid the box from the wrapping and bow, discarding both in Garrus’s proffered hand, and lifted the lid. Garrus and Jane took quick breaths together. The contents didn’t surprise Garrus, but the beauty of the material took his breath.
Jane brushed gossamer tissue aside to reveal a shawl, the deepest shade of night sky blue with a golden-threaded sheen that flickered as the fabric moved, just like stars. She ran her fingers over it and pressed her lips together tightly.
“Your own Anivia Vocan shawl,” his mom said, encouraging and warm, because it was clear to even his family how struck Jane was.
Jane looked to his mom, his dad who was smiling proudly, and his sister who was smiling so wide she’d cupped her hands over her mandibles. “Thank you guys, it’s beautiful.” She looked up at Garrus, the glassiness of heartfelt joy in her eyes.
Garrus wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “It’s a good color, looks like a star-filled night sky.”
“I picked the color,” his dad said proudly. “Garrus always enjoyed looking up at the night sky when he was a boy, it brought him comfort I think, so I thought it was a fitting color for you.”
“You’ve brought so much happiness into my brother’s life, Jane.” Sol said. “And ours.”
Jane smiled again, so sweet there was almost a sadness to it, though he knew she was only happy and grateful. She didn’t look up from the fabric, simply stroked it again, admiring it equally with her eyes and her touch. She looked so happy, so radiant, so beautiful.
Garrus could have watched her appreciating that gift until their viewing ended, until he and Jane stood alone on the sidewalk and everyone else melted away.
“Here,” his dad finally said, “let’s get that put on you so we can get inside.”
“Oh, yeah, sorry.”
Garrus took his arm from her shoulder. Jane lifted the shawl from the box, which Garrus took from her, tucking the paper inside and it under his arm.
His dad delicately draped the shawl atop her head so that it shadowed her brow, a few fiery wisps sneaking out from underneath. Jane’s internal sunshine shone as he wrapped it around her neck loosley, then let it pool over her shoulders. Just as his dad stepped back, Jane took Garrus’s hand in hers, and he gave it a tender, reassuring squeeze.
You look beautiful, he wanted to say.
The hand squeeze would have to do.
“There,” his mom said. “Now let’s get inside before the stars no longer want to hear our gratitude.”
Garrus’s mom, dad, and sister all turned and headed up the steep stone steps. Only when he felt Jane’s hand tug on his did he realize his feet had melded with the ground.
“Are you still frozen solid?” she asked with a smirk partially hidden by the gentle curving drape of her shawl.
“No,” he said, shaking his head.
“Then come on.” She tugged on his hand again.
The final tug woke him to his senses, only partially though, because that Anivia Vocan as he and Jane ascended the steps together Garrus could have sworn that his thumping heart carried him, and once his feet left the ground they never touched it again.