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Anna's spoon paused at edge of her mouth. Her lips had almost closed around the edge of the metal; it needed to move barely an inch to drop the soup on her tongue.
But she'd *just* lost her appetite.
Commander Shepard stared at her from across the table, an awkward smile across her face. Her fingertips drummed against each other as if awaiting an answer she was so sure she'd get.
Anna pulled the spoon away from her face and closed her mouth. Gently swallowing, she set the utensil back in her bowl of warm liquid. She figured she'd just misheard the question--even if the Normandy were quieter than a mouse, some things went one ear and out of the other.
"Could you-" she started, before lacing her fingers together, "-could you repeat.. whatever it is you just said? Please?"
Shepard moved a free strand of blonde hair behind her ear and cleared her throat. "I said.. May I have your help with asking Garrus out?"
Anna sat with the thought for a moment. She'd known Garrus for a short time; unfortunately, she didn't know him well. He'd run his own course with her sister, but she'd never bothered to grow close with the Turian. It wasn't exactly worth it in her own eyes.
Besides, the Commander was not.. Esmea.
Esmea was so.. harsh and loud, opininated. Whatever she said went; no other outside influence could change her mind. She was murder, and all things dark and basking.
Shepard was a cheerleader; she was positive. Anna hadn't a clue how she got most of her work done with such a bright smile on her face. With tan skin and perfect hair, the commander was the status-quo for the twenty-first century. Fortunately, things had changed from then.
Anna's eyes ran over the woman opposite herself and cringed slightly. She shouldn't have been the one to help her. Quite frankly, she couldn't take a Barbie doll and turn her into a psychopath--plus, it wasn't even her business.
Moving to stand, Anna picked up her bowl of half-filled, warm soup and started for the sink of their small kitchen. "No, thanks."
Shepard shot upward like the mercenary would fall out of an airlock if she didn't grab her fast enough. Unfortunately, she missed her arm by a hair.
"C'mon, Anna- You have to help me-" she pleaded. "You're literally the only one with experience here-"
Anna stripped her hands of her gloves and took a moment to wash her utensils while thinking over her response. She couldn't have been the only one with dating experience--by the Gods, she didn't really have any herself. It was easy with Zaeed; she just showed him how big her gun could be and he was following her around hopeless.
Er.. Something around those lines.
Moving the metal bowl back into its place, Anna heaved a small sigh and slipped her gloves back onto her hands. She laced her fingers together to push the fabric into its place, before pushing her palms into her pant pockets.
"I'm sure Tali could help you- Hell, Dr. Chakwas' has some sort of dating advice," she protested and moved for the elevator. "I'm not the only one who can answer your pitiful question."
Anna physically jumped when Shepard's hand landed on her arm. Her head snapped over toward the Commander, her lip curling up slightly. It seemed with age, her patience was also thinning.
Shepard withdrew her hand hastily and swallowed hard. "Um- sorry," she apologized. "I'm just a little desperate- He doesn't really see any of my advances-"
Anna's teeth ground together with a roll of her eyes. She didn't help charity--especially when they were sappy cases about a woman trying to ask out a man too oblivious to see it within two feet of his eyes. She didn't like Shepard, nor did she like Garrus, either.
Shoving her hands back into her pockets, Anna opened her mouth to reject her persistent nature; however, the Commander beat her to it.
"You never explain any of your personal life, and just- We could even use this time to get to know each other-" she spoke desperately. "Anna, please-"
The mercenary had walked toward the elevator by the time Shepard was finished with her plea. She pressed a button on the dial and waited for the lift to arrive. Everything had gone in one ear and out of the other; Anna regretted ever leaving her room.
Zaeed had warned her, but did she listen? No, of course not. Why would she listen to him? He was never right, she was.
Stepping onto the elevator, Anna heaved a sigh as Shepard followed. She figured she needed to scare the commander; give the cat just enough to satisfy its curiosity.
"I met Zaeed by nearly shooting him in the face."
"... I beg your pardon?"
"I met Zaeed by nearly shooting him in the face. Fast forward, here we are 7 years later."
"That's not-"
"I really don't have much else to offer you, Shepard. You wanted my help, that's your help."
Shepard remained silent for a few moments. Her hands had tangled behind her back, her fingers interlocked, then separated, only to re-lace together.
"Do you-.. Do you care to elaborate on that?"
Anna was grateful the door opened when it did. She moved her hands out of her pockets and moved a hand through the side of her bangs. The half ponytail behind her head swayed with the movement, but remained still otherwise.
"No, I don't." Anna turned the cargo area with Shepard on her heels. She followed her around like a hopeless puppy; then again, her own cat used to follow her heels. She rather did miss her feline. She'd have to visit her the next time they were at Omega.
Turning on her heel, she paused in front of the door. Shepard nearly bumped into her at the sudden movement. The woman had a look of pity on her face; she looked to be at Anna's mercy.
She almost felt sorry for the Commander.
Just almost.
"I'll.." Anna mumbled. "I'll think about it. Goodbye, Shepard."
The sudden ray of hope lifted the commander's spirit. Her face was no longer drooping in melancholy; it picked up just enough to appear like sun looming through clouds.
She reached to hug Anna, but the other stepped backward.
"Oh, sorry-" Shepard retracted her hands. She seemed confused on what to do with them for a moment, before finally folding them behind her.
Anna grimaced for a moment and turned back around to walk through the door to the Cargo Hold. Zaeed sat against a few crates with his gun in his hand and a cloth in the other. Despite Anna's attempts to get him to use newer technology, he still preferred to clean the weapon manually.
A time-consuming endeavor in her own opinion.
"So," he started. "She likes the Turian."
Anna raised a brow at her spouse. "And just how do you know that?"
"She talks loud enough for the whole ship to hear her. Besides, you attitude wafted with you."
Anna scoffed with a roll of her eyes. "She wants my help," she explained whilst walking over toward Zaeed.
"But-" she climbed over a crate to sit behind him, "-quite frankly, I don't know how."
Zaeed never budged as her legs moved atop his own and her arms wound around his shoulders. His face remained neutral, almost as if he expected the behavior.
"Why doesn't she nearly shoot him in the face? That worked for you," he replied absentmindedly.
"How can you hear through the damn elevator?"
"If I told you, you'd never talk in the damn elevator."
Anna heaved a sigh through her nose and rested her head in the crook of his shoulder. She drummed her fingers against her wrist in thought; Esmea couldn't know about her conversation--she'd either break herself or run into a rampage far worse than she were capable of in the past. With the growing ages, technology was better every day; she could inflict some *serious* damage.
It was for the sake of herself and Shepard that she and Zaeed keep their mouths shut.
Her spouse's gun was the only sound to be made in the room. When he flipped it over to the other side, it made a slight *clank*, before falling back into consecutive tapping.
"You know that threat I made a while ago?" murmured Anna rather suddenly.
Zaeed steadied his hands and gently tilted his head toward his partner. He thought back a moment, before shaking his head from side to side. "You make a lot of them--remind me of the one you're talking about?"
"We were in an argument over Precious and I said I'd kill you in your sleep if you touched her?"
Zaeed paused once more before nodding his head in recollection. "Does it still stand?"
"Absolutely. However, there's a new objective; if you tell Esmea about Garrus, you won't die by *her* hands." Anna patted the side of his chest as a chuckle rang from his throat.
She watched as his hands busied themselves once more.