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Shepard’s check in with Tali (a communication they’ve committed to about twice a month despite the distance between them) usually begins cheerfully, but this time Shepard can’t even get two words in before she’s cut off.
“Hi Tal–”
“Keelah, Shepard, he’s allergic! To me!”
Two full years of waiting, three rounds of cyber-immunotherapy with the assistance of the geth, twenty six trips between Palaven and Rannoch, four arguments with the Admiralty Board about Tali “committing to a non quarian”, and two with Garrus’s father about his son “committing to a quarian” had come to this.
It was going to be Fleet and Flotilla worthy–probably even better. Tali could finally safely let Garrus touch all the parts of her she’d been dying to let him near.
Old habits died hard, however, and she applied a layer of the old disinfectant, usually reserved for being out of her suit in densely populated areas like the Citadel, on the trip to Palaven. Just to be safe, like Auntie Raan had taught her.
The early morning sun peeked over Palaven’'s horizon, flooding the little house with light. They’d barely made it from the spaceport to his room; it had been longer than usual since they’d last seen one another in person and she’d been teasing what was to come. She loved the way his mandibles twitched when he was nervous: they clicked audibly at the threshold of his home.
And, keelah, his touch had been just as glorious as she’d hoped. They had kissed a few times: four to be exact, but it was entirely different (and far more exciting) to have his hands on her bare shoulders instead of just her face. He was perhaps a bit spikier than expected, but Tali found herself smiling and biting back a small moan at the hint of jaggedness against her own, softer skin.
They’d just gotten her halfway out of her enviro suit–the best still yet to come. Garrus pulled away suddenly and emitted a low whistle.
“What are you doing,” she mumbled against him.
He whistled again but this time it sounded more like a wheeze. His hand went to his chest.
“Garrus, what’s wrong?”
A turian doctor told them the answer an hour later in a local hospital:
“You have an allergy, Mr. Vakarian. Have you been exposed to anything new or foreign recently?”
Tali’s interest in the tiled wall next to her increased exponentially in that moment.
“Oh no,” Shepard says but she’s laughing despite herself.
“It’s not funny! I almost killed him!”
But she starts laughing with Shepard and soon they’re both overcome with giggles that echo with a little static through the QEC.
“Three merc gangs banded together couldn’t take out Archangel,” Shepard manages through tears of laughter. “Your disinfectant almost did.”