Work Text:
Weeks. It had been, according to the ship's calendar, multiple weeks since their last confrontation. A handful of missions, more deactivated geth than anyone could count, and growing unrest amongst the crewmates.
But something still lingered.
On the field, everything was as it should be. Even in the midst of explosions and sniper rounds and armature attacks, there was something that felt so right about it. Something that was so noticeably missing back aboard the Normandy. Was it the tension? The adrenaline? The constant shifting parameters that demanded a higher level of awareness and decision making? Could she just have been bored? Restless? Reckless?
Or was it that he was not beside her?
Surely, surely it was the battle. She was a fighter. All her life she’d been a fighter, back on the streets of Earth, back on Akuze, Ilos, The Citadel. She was a fighter, it made sense that what she would miss was the action. Not the security of his closeness. Not the way her heart hummed along with his voice when he spoke. It was simply the combat. And it was for that reason, and not the others, that she found herself on the engineering deck again.
She approached the mako and the pair of two-toed legs jutting from beneath it, one propped up and the other twitching with the movements of the unseen Turian. “How’s she doin’, Garrus?”
She fought to ignore the knot in her stomach. She was Commander Shepard, Captain of the SSV Normandy, Lieutenant Commander of the Alliance Military, First Human Spectre. And Commanders, Captains and Spectres did not get butterflies.
The blue armor rolled out from the vehicle, and straightened up to face her. “Well, the axles easy enough to fix, but you’re going to need new suspension coils before long if you intend to keep pulling moves like that.”
She smirked mischievously. “What, you weren’t impressed?”
“I’ll admit,” he said in a slow, sub-vocal hum. “It was definitely one of the more...creative ways I’ve seen someone take down an Armature. But maybe the thrusters were a little unnecessary.”
“Ah, y’ought’a know by now I never do anything half-assed.” She teased, and his mandibles flicked in a laugh.
“True. At least I’ll know to strap in properly next time.” She chuckled again, searching for what to say next. Truth be told, she herself wasn’t entirely certain exactly what she was doing. She knew she wanted him to keep talking, to make him smile again in the strange way that Turian’s did smile.
“Something else I can do for you?” He asked amicably when her pause lasted just a second too long.
“No, I was just...” She trailed off, floundering for an excuse. He did not fill in the gap, however, and continued watching her with militaristic attentiveness. She sighed with a tired smile, wondering if he’d be any more capable of picking up on her queues if he were human. Then remembering past courtships, decided that, in fact, it would not have helped at all. “Just checking in.” She took too long to conjure a new excuse, and to maintain her cover, dismissed herself.
“Very well, Shepard.”
And there it was again. That drop in her stomach, the lurch in her heart, the pang of discomfort she’d felt when he’d called her ‘human’ those few weeks ago. Only this time it was somehow different. She was Shepard. Everyone called her Shepard, if not just ‘Commander’. She was Shepard to Joker, to Tali, to Wrex. Hell, even to Anderson, who’d been involved in her military career since she signed up over a decade ago.
“Garrus...” She said tentatively, turning sideways to face him.
“Yes Commander?” She met his eyes and pondered which words to use, when something happened to her that hasn’t happened since before she joined the military. She panicked.
“Nothing, carry on.” He blinked, surprised. It was not like Commander Shepard to refrain from speaking her mind. But she said nothing more, and instead walked back into the elevator. He knelt down to continue work on the mako, only vaguely aware of the small twist of curiosity forming in the back of his mind.
It was hard to ignore, as it was not the only thing about her that he was curious about. Human subtext and subtle behaviors were something he was still getting used to, but there were other things that were obvious even to him. Like how she seemed to visit him more and more frequently, or how she’d talk to him about any given subject, rather than ones of relevance or importance like she did with others. But maybe he was just imagining that. It was so hard to tell with humans.
So focused on his work, and on other things, he’d realized all too late that once again he’d missed meal call. Not a terrible tragedy, since he couldn’t eat human food anyway. The cook usually set aside a plate for him, and a plate for Tali. If he wasn’t up with the rest of the crew, he’d undoubtedly find it in the fridge, so that is where he headed.
The mess hall was relatively empty, except for a few crewmen lingering at the cleared tables. It had taken some time, but by now they were amiable enough to share a courteous nod in greeting as the turian walked by, which he returned.
The nods, that was another human thing. Gestures of the head, depending on the direction and even the expression they wore, could mean any number of things. Sometimes Shepard’s head would tilt to the side, which was supposed to be a sign of curiosity and interest. Sometimes she would nod forward and backward, a signal of agreement. Sometimes she would drop her gaze completely, shift her weight and smile before returning eye contact. That one alluded him, as well as one other -
“Excuse me, Garrus, are you using the fridge?”
Liara’s voice snapped him to attention, making him realize he’d been standing before it. Gripping the handle for the past few minutes, he’d failed to actually search for his dinner and instead contemplated the complexities of human body language.
“Sorry Liara. Go ahead.” He stepped aside, and she offered a nod and half bow. Some humans did the same thing, but he’d seen it more among asari. A gesture of respect and gratitude. “Liara, can I ask you something?” The words were out in the air before he could even consider whether they were worth asking.
“Of course Garrus, what can I help you with?” She said pleasantly, straightening up from the fridge with a drink in hand.
He wasn’t sure what urged him to ask her, of all people. Possibly because she was a scholar, educated, and had at least some experience dealing with humans. More than he did, anyway. “There’s something...how much do you know about, uh -” He dropped his voice a little and stepped forward in an attempt at some privacy between the curious human ears seated at the tables. “Human body language?”
“Some. Most of it is fairly consistent with asari body language, though some of it still escapes me.” Well, it was more than he knew.
“What does it...sometimes I’ll look up and notice Shepard looking towards me, even from across a room. And when she does, she’s sort of...biting her lower lip, but she always looks away really quickly. I haven’t noticed her doing it at anyone else, is that common for commanding officers?”
“Biting her...? Oh, Goddess.” Liara turned away, rubbing her forehead with her hand while simultaneously shielding her face. Garrus’ heart did a loop, his mandibles flaring in anticipation.
“Is it that bad?” He asks, poorly concealing his worry.
“No - well, I suppose it depends...” She continued looking away and rubbed her neck.
“What does it mean?”
“W-well, it...” Despite the rest of the hall being completely empty, she still glanced around. “From my understanding, it’s likely an indication that she - her hormones might be - when humans - No, no.” She shook her head, running her hands over her face as a sort of reset while Garrus’ nerves continued to wrack. What was so bad that Liara could not even tell him? “It’s possible that she does that when looking at you because she’s...attracted to you.”
Worry, fear, doubt, confusion, and everything else was completely wiped from his mind. Like an overheated rifle, it took a few seconds for his mind to cool back down enough to process the information properly.
“Attracted...?”
“That’s just a hypothesis, it could have some other meaning depending on the context and situation. I don’t...maybe you should talk to her about it. I’m getting a little...out of my depth.”
“Right, of course. Thanks for the input anyway. I uh... should get back to work.”
“Yes, myself as well. Have a good evening, Garrus.” She said, walking off so quickly he didn’t have a chance to wish her the same.
Back down in the engineering deck, he opened his terminal and stared, and stared, and stared. After three solid minutes of staring, he finally relented that he would not be getting anything useful done, and retired to the crew quarters.
The next day, Shepard did not come to see him. Not that he should have expected her to, it was not exactly a daily habit. He fought to acknowledge, for most of the afternoon, that he simply wanted her to. In her absence, he pictured her in his mind, biting her lip the way she did whenever he caught her staring his way.
Why would that, of all things, be a sign of attraction? Did humans implement use of their teeth during coitus? Sure, it was a common thing amongst turians, but their skin was rough and scaley. Human skin, on the other hand, was so soft and tender. It didn’t make sense to him how that would have its place. But that did not keep him from pondering it frequently.
As the days went on however, he was able to think about it less and less. In fact, he was almost back into a regular workflow, convinced that he’d over reacted and read too much into behavior that was so negligible to begin with. So when she appeared before him again, his resolution crumbled like a brick wall on the receiving end of a bullet train.
“Garrus, we’ve got another mission from the Admiral. Wants us to check out another settlement, possible Geth activity. Interested?”
“Uh...” He stared at her mouth, at her soft lips, and for the first time started to wonder what they might feel like. “Sure. Yeah, sounds good.”
She furrowed her brow and cocked her head slightly to the side - confusion, suspicion, worry. “Everything alright?”
“Yeah. Yeah, of course. Ready whenever you are, Shepard.”
There was an expression he knew - averting her gaze, head dropping slightly, but this time, no smile. Discomfort, secrecy, withholding. But just as quickly, she met his eyes again and offered a small grin. “Alright. We’re heading to the Hourglass Nebula, so it’ll be a while. I’ll let you know when we’re heading out.” She spun around to head for the elevator, but this time it was him who called out.
“Shepard, wait.”
She turned, eyebrows raised - curiosity, anticipation. “Yes?”
He could think of nothing to say. Her expression shifted to another one he didn’t know. It was bare, almost no expression at all. Not that he could see. “I was...” it was a simple question. Not really one he would ever expect to ask of a ranking officer, but she was more than just his superior. She was also his friend...right? “I was just wondering, ah...” She did not speak, but simply stood still as a statue. “If...we are taking the mako.” His heart, stomach, shoulders, everything dropped with the sickening weight of his own cowardice.
Her stance seemed to change as well, though only slightly. Her body relaxed, but her face remained blank, her eyelids drooping. “Oh. Uh, no. Not this time.”
“Alright.” Was all he said in reply before pivoting to face his console. His back to her, forcing himself to focus, he did not notice the slow steps she took. He did not notice when she paused to look over her shoulder. He did not notice when she shook her head, and slammed the elevator console unnecessarily hard.
* * *
Some hours later, she, Garrus and Tali gathered near the personnel lockers across from the mako.
“This isn’t good, Shepard, they’re getting bolder every day.” Tali said, angrily unclipping her pistol and shoving it into her locker while the others pulled their helmets off.
“I know, they keep pushing further outside of the Veil. I don’t like the implications of that, especially from what we know about Sovereign.”
“There’s got to be more we can do than just clearing them out whenever they pop up. If they’re acting like a weed, we need to pull them out by the roots.” Tali argued heatedly.
“There’s not much I can do unless the Council chooses to act. I can try talking to Udina, but besides that, we have to just take a mile for every inch they give us. ” Tali walked off, swearing in her native language, rambling off a full sentence that Shepard didn’t need to understand to sympathise with. She knew better than to take it personally.
“It’s frustrating, but I think you’re right.” Garrus offered, stashing his sniper rifle inside his locker. “Better to bide our time and plan our next move instead of becoming a target to be hunted down like Saren.”
“Yeah, exactly.” Shepard sighed, staring into the visor of her helmet. Something needed to be done, but what?
“Don’t worry, Shepard, you’ll figure something out.” He put a hand on her shoulder, but she did not react. Thinking he might have crossed a line, Garrus pulled his hand back and started to walk towards the mako.
“Garrus...” Her voice was quiet and, something else. Something he didn’t usually hear in her voice. Was it...timidness?
“Yeah?”
She stared into her helmet, breathing slowly. “I know... I know I made a big deal about calling me ‘human’ before.” His mandibles flicked and heart skipped a beat. That had been a while ago. Was it still bothering her? Had he done it again without realizing it?
“I didn’t say it again, did I?” He could not pull his eyes from her, despite the fear gnawing at his insides that he’d done her wrong. Quite the contrary, if he had hurt her, again, he wanted to look her right in the eyes, so she would know for sure that he -
“No, no, nothing like that. I just wanted to say...” Her fingers rolled and tapped on her helmet, though her eyes never moved. “Everyone calls me Shepard, but if you’re comfortable with it, while we’re on the ship at least...it would be alright if you called me Xandra.” She finally took her eyes off the helmet, but did not look at him right away. She looked left, looked down, then slowly rolled her gaze up to meet his eyes.
He didn’t know if, like the Hanar, humans placed great importance on names. He didn’t think it really mattered. What he did recognize was that, in whatever form, she had shared something with him that was personal and private. Something that she hadn’t, as far as he knew, granted anyone else aboard the Normandy. Something that, from the tone of her voice to the look in her eyes, to everything else he knew about her, carried significance.
He nodded, shifting his weight to what he hoped was a relaxed, carefree pose. “I will do that, Shep - uh - ...Xandra.” Something about saying it out loud gave him a light feeling in his chest. It could have been any number of things, but if he had to bet, he’d put his entire bounty on the way it made her smile.
