Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

A fist punched into the space between Shepard’s shoulder blades, pushing her down the five foot drop. She landed on her knees, her handcuffed hands flying up before she cracked her face onto the concrete. She scrambled up, spitting out a series of curses in an array of languages, and threw herself at her captor. He looked down at her with a sneer. The glass door had already slid closed between them, trapping Shepard. She knew from the specs of this ship that the glass was so reinforced she could shoot at it for three weeks and not make a scratch. Still, her anger overwhelmed her momentarily and she banged her handcuffed fists against the glass. 

“Pathetic,” her batarian captor said.

If he knew he was stood across from Commander Shepard, separated by only a few inches of reinforced glass and a short drop, he would not be so brave. But as it stood, he had no idea who she was. To him, she was just another human to be sold into slavery. If any of the batarians on this ship had even the basic knowledge of humanity, they would not be in as much trouble as they were. 

“I’m going to kill you,” Shepard promised. 

The batarian pointed at his ear and shook his head, “It’s one way.” 

“I’m going to rip all four of your eyelids off.” 

“Stupid human. I can’t hear you!” 

“You will.” 

The batarian grew tired of ribbing her and left. Shepard glared at his retreating form until she lost sight of him. She committed his face to memory, she would kill him personally. She turned to the back of her cell, her eyes landing on the other prisoner in here with her. He was a ragged mess, so different to the last time Shepard had seen him. He’d been on the cover of some Citadel news website in a suit that cost more than Shepard’s entire wardrobe. He didn’t look so rich right now. He watched her with blank, dead eyes. Shepard wondered if the rumours of torture on this ship were true. 

She broke her handcuffs easily, dropping the sparking, cheap metal to the floor. Her cellmate perked up slightly at that. Shepard removed her holo-visor - something Kasumi Goto had made for her last year - and dropped her disguise. At the sight of her real face, her cellmate inched forwards on his knees. Shepard shook out her hair. 

“Gordan Langston? I’m Commander Shepard and I’m here to rescue you.” 

Langston crawled forward like a bug. He fell at her feet and gave a wretched sob. Shepard stared at the top of his greasy-haired head. He really wasn’t what she’d been expecting. She pictured that strong, confident man on the billboards around the Citadel. This was the guy the Alliance was making a big fuss over? Sure he was rich, she could tell that just by the torn rags of his clothes. But a little time on a batarian slaver ship and he’d wilted into nothing. Shepard pitied him, Chakwas had her work cut out for her when they got him back to the Normandy. 

She uncloaked her omnitool and radio’d the Normandy, “Joker, do you read me?” 

“Locked onto your location, Commander,” Joker confirmed. 

“Garrus, Tali, you’re up.” 

“Ten minutes,” Garrus promised, confidently. 

“Don’t be late.” 

Shepard knelt down, freeing her legs from Langston’s hands. She studied him in the dim light of their cell, he was bruised and bleeding. He looked on the edge of collapse. His eyes glowed wetly and he took her hands in his. 

“Commander Shepard,” he said in a weak voice. “You’re a beautiful sight for these sore eyes.” 

Shepard gave him a polite smile, “Let’s get you patched up, our rides almost here.” 

Shepard dispensed the last of her medi-gel, patching Langston up as best as she could. Chakwas would still need to look him over, but she’d done enough to get him off the ship in one piece. She stood up, pulling Langston up with her. He leaned most of his weight on her. They both watched the glass door eagerly. Shepard glanced at her omni-tool. It had been twelve minutes. She pulled out her pistol just as Garrus sauntered over to their cell. Shepard’s heart gave a stutter at the sight of him. They’d only been separated for six or so hours, long enough for Shepard to get captured by batarians and shipped partway across the galaxy, but it felt like far too long. Garrus pulled up his omni-tool and hacked the terminal on the wall until the glass doors breezed open. 

Shepard grunted her disapproval at his tardiness. She delicately pulled Langston over to the five foot step down into their cell. Garrus leaned down, wrapping two big hands around Langston’s upper arms. He pulled and Shepard gave Langston a shove. Between the two of them, they got him out of the cell. Garrus deposited Langston on the floor and offered his hand to Shepard. She took it, even though she didn’t need it, and he helped pull her up. She ended up pressed against him as she got her footing. 

“I told you not to be late,” she said. 

Garrus’s mandibles flared out into a smile and he stepped back. He nodded his head down the corridor, “I ran into some trouble.” 

Shepard followed his gaze to where eight batarian guards lay prone on the floor. She was a little impressed. She helped Langston back onto stable footing, dragging his arm around her shoulders so she could have both hands to fight. An alarm started blaring across the ship, and the lights flared brighter. Langston covered his eyes and Shepard squinted into the far-too-bright lights. 

“Garrus, take point.” Garrus nodded and stepped a few feet in front of them, gun pointed forwards. Shepard radio’d Tali, “Update, Tali?” 

“Autopilot set. Making my way back to the shuttle now. Do you have him?” 

“I’ve got him.” 

The three of them made their way down the corridors of the slaver ship. Shepard could hear the whines and cries of the other captives, but she was under strict orders not to help them. It tugged at her conscience, but she had to focus on Langston. He was their real mission. The Normandy crew usually had bigger fires to fight than one batarian slaver ship. The batarians had had no idea who Gordan Langston was when they’d taken him, perhaps if they hadn’t isolated themselves from the rest of the galaxy they might have known. Gordan Langston was one of the richest humans in the galaxy, maybe the richest resident on the Citadel. Shepard had personally rescued him in the hopes that maybe he could distribute some of that wealth to the war effort - something he had steadfastly avoided so far. 

The rest of these captives, and the batarian guards that were still alive, were being auto-piloted to the nearest planet where the Alliance was waiting. Only Langston would get a personal trip in the Normandy. 

They made it to their shuttle without running into Shepard’s personal captor. She huffed out a sigh of regret, maybe one day she’d have the chance to personally repay him for his treatment. She flexed her swollen ankle, a reminder of when he’d tried his absolute hardest to break her. Shepard set her mouth in a grim line at the memory, and delicately passed Langston into Cortez’s waiting arms. While Cortez got him strapped in, Shepard and Garrus stood by the shuttle entrance waiting for Tali. 

Shepard radio’d her, “Tali, you good?” 

“Go for the optics, Chatika!” she cried. The sounds of a firefight burst down the comms. Garrus and Shepard shared a look. Before they could decide to intervene, Tali said, casually, “On my way, Shepard.” 

“I’m sorry for being late,” Garrus said. 

“That’s the last time you leave me in a batarian prison for longer than agreed.” 

“That’s the last time you’ll be in a batarian prison.” Garrus frowned at her when she didn’t answer, “Right?” 

She lifted a shoulder in a shrug, “Who knows what the future holds?” 

Shepard shot a batarian guard as soon as he rounded the corner. He fell before he even had time to recognise her. 

“Shepard, tell me you’re not going to get abducted by batarians again.” 

“I don’t want to lie to you.” 

Tali appeared down the corridor, Shepard and Garrus lowered their guns. Shepard jerked her head for Garrus to board the shuttle while she waited for Tali to catch up. Tali climbed in. Shepard cast one final glance down the ship, praying for her captor to show his face. He didn’t. With one final sigh of regret, she boarded the shuttle. Cortez didn’t wait for her to be strapped in before heading back for the Normandy. 

As soon as they docked on the Normandy, there was a flurry of activity. Shepard’s omni-tool beeped repeatedly with incoming messages from the Alliance. The doors to the shuttle opened and Shepard and Chakwas half-pulled, half-carried Langston out of the shuttle. EDI was there to help lay him onto a hover-stretcher while Chakwas started strapping him up to various tubes and machines carried by Liara’s biotics. Garrus and Tali climbed out of the shuttle as Vega ducked inside to help Cortez with the decontamination. Langston looked around in awe as he drifted away. 

Shepard brought up her omni-tool and began to reply to messages as fast as they were coming through. Garrus, Tali, and Shepard waited for the next lift, while the medical party carrying Langston went first. Shepard could patch up any battlefield injury, but anything that required more than medi-gel and gritted teeth was beyond her. Plus she wanted to be free of Langston’s idolising stare for a moment.

“Eight of them, Tali! I took down eight in one go,” Garrus bragged. 

Tali scoffed, “Chatika could take down triple that.” 

“Sure, I’ll believe that when I see it.” 

“At least Tali was on time,” Shepard muttered.

Garrus groaned, “Are you ever going to let that go?” 

“No.” 

The lift arrived and the three of them stepped inside. Shepard pressed the button for the crew deck. She automatically glanced at the Med-Bay as they headed to the mess hall, but the shutters were drawn. Liara was sat reading a datapad when they arrived. Her biotic talents mustn’t have been much use to Chakwas. Garrus put the kettle on and Shepard sat down by Liara. 

“How’s he looking?” she asked.

Liara put down her datapad, “From what I gathered, it’s not as bad as it could have been. He’ll live.” 

Shepard felt her tense shoulders relax. She had put a lot at risk to rescue this guy, he couldn’t die on her now. She glanced at Liara’s datapad and saw Gordan Langston looking like his usual dripping-rich self. 

“His autobiography,” Liara explained, her voice laced with derision, “I’m not sure I’m buying the whole underprivileged human rags-to-riches story he’s trying to sell.” 

“Yeah, well, don’t let him hear that. We need to swallow whatever this guy says to get his money.” 

Garrus passed over Shepard’s mug, now filled with coffee and sat opposite her, “You’re starting to sound like my C-Sec boss.” 

“It’s only twenty-four hours. As soon as he’s transferred over the funds and been deposited back on the Citadel, we can clean our hands of him.” 

Tali brought up a tiny version of Chakita and began to run diagnostics. Shepard sipped her coffee, made to perfection by Garrus. Liara turned back to the autobiography. Every so often, she gave a scoff of disdain. 

EDI’s alarmed voice came over the intercom, “Commander, you’re urgently required in the Med-Bay.” 

Shepard left her coffee on the table and marched to the Med-Bay. 

“Ah!” Langston said, as soon as she walked in, “Finally, Shepard, I need you to stop this ship right now.” 

“I…” Shepard glanced at Chakwas’s mildly disgruntled face trying to understand what was happening here. “I can’t do that. We’re heading to the Citadel, you’ll be home soon.” 

“We have to stop it!” 

“What’s going on here?”

“I can’t travel by mass relay!” 

Shepard blinked at him, “I’m… sorry?” 

“Haven’t you read all the articles? Mass relays age you. Every time you travel through one, you’re adding ten years to your skin.” 

Shepard stared at him blankly. Slowly, she turned her gaze to Chakwas who looked as perplexed as she felt and twice as irritated. EDI, too, seemed confused. Shepard had travelled through mass relays hundreds of times in the past three years alone and she still looked fine. Yeah, she was scarred, but that was less to do with the mass relays and more to do with dying and being shot at countless times. 

She arched her eyebrow, “It’s only one jump. We’ll be at the Citadel tomorrow if we take the relay. If we don’t, it’ll be…” 

Shepard didn’t even know how long that would take. 

“One week,” EDI chimed in.

“One week!” Shepard repeated, “Don’t you want to get home? Surely you’ve had enough of ships for a while?” 

Langston frowned and she could make out the ghost of the powerful man he was supposed to be behind his hollow cheeks. “Miss. Shepard-” 

“Commander.” 

Langston stared at her. After a beat, something like respect solidified on his face, “Commander Shepard, surely my comfort is of the most importance at this point? I have been subjected to horrors you can’t even imagine.” 

At this, Shepard had to avoid rolling her eyes. The urge was so strong, it actually hurt. 

Langston didn’t notice the battle of willpower Shepard was engaged in, “I care about my looks. I couldn’t exactly demand the batarians avoid using the relays, but I can ask you - one powerful person to another - skip this one. Let’s take it slow, get to know each other.” 

Shepard didn’t like the way his voice sounded at that last part. She thought of Hackett, ordering her to do anything necessary to get Langston to offer a small percentage of his wealth to the war effort. She reminded herself of what that tiny amount of his profits could do for them. Soldiers on the front line could get actual food instead of nutrient paste, they could get better quality beds, they could get reminders that there were real people they were fighting for. 

“EDI, tell Joker to take the scenic route. Chakwas, can I have a moment alone with Langston?” 

EDI and Chakwas left. Shepard crossed the room and dragged over a plastic stool and sat by Langston’s bed. 

“Thank you, Commander.” 

“Not a problem,” Shepard said politely. It was a problem though. One week would delay their other missions by quite a bit. She forced herself to remember those front-line soldiers. They needed her to swallow her pride. “Listen, Gordan, there’s a reason you’re getting this personal treatment-” 

“I already know why.” 

“Oh?” 

“And I get it,” He slid to the edge of his bed. He took her hand in his and Shepard drew her brows together in confusion. “I feel the same way.” 

He lunged and Shepard jerked backwards so fast she almost slipped out of her stool. Langston’s mouth missed hers and she yanked her hand free of his. She stood up and backed off, putting as much space between them as she could without running away. 

“What-” 

“I have a boyfriend,” she spat out in a panic. She hadn’t had time to think through her words, she was too busy trying to keep her fist from connecting with his nose. 

Langston leaned back and gave her a smirk, “He can’t be on the ship. I know the Alliance has rules about this. What he doesn’t know can’t hurt him.” 

“He’s not Alliance, he’s turian.”

Shepard clamped her teeth down on her lower lip to prevent her saying anything else. What the hell had she just done? She had already dug the hole to knee depth, she didn’t want to go any deeper. Gordan stared at her in surprise. She could see the questions racing through his head. Shepard felt heat inch up her neck. Why had she said that? That was so stupid. She should have just told him the truth - he was disgusting and his money couldn’t buy her. 

“The turian on the mission?” he asked eventually.

“The… very same.” 

Gordan folded his arms over his chest, “Interesting.” 

He could tell she was lying. What would he do when he discovered the truth? The Alliance wouldn’t see a credit off him. 

“I don’t think he’d be very happy if I cheated on him.” 

“No, I imagine not.” 

“Anyway,” Shepard said, stepping towards the door as casually as she could, “I’ll send the doctor back in.”

“Great. And Shepard?” Shepard turned away from the open door, inches from freedom, “I’d love to hear all about how the first human Spectre ended up with a turian.” 

Shepard gave him a tight smile, “It’s really not all that interesting.” 

She ducked through the door before he could call her back. She gestured for Chakwas to head inside. Chakwas shot her a questioning look and Shepard nodded, she was fine. Even though she’d just dragged Garrus - and the rest of her crew - into a huge lie just to avoid snogging Langston. She sucked in a deep breath. This was fine, she could handle this. So she had to pretend to date Garrus, what was the big deal? 

She could do this. She kept repeating that over in her head as she headed back to the mess hall. Liara had disappeared, evidently having grown tired with the autobiography. Garrus was sat there alone, his eyes skimming the datapad, a brow plate raised in disapproval. Shepard paused, watching him. Without really intending to, she found her eyes straying to his big hands on the datapad, the sharp points of his talons against the metal. It had been over a year since their first, and only, night together, but Shepard had committed every second of it to memory. Remembering the feel of Garrus’s talons on her thighs, his hot breath on her chest, his hide between her teeth, had gotten her through a lot of lonely nights on house arrest.

He looked up suddenly, catching her staring, and Shepard’s face warmed. She was glad no one could hear her thoughts, or they might have dumped a bucket of cold water over her head. She took her seat opposite him again, her cup of coffee sat waiting for her. 

“How is he?” Garrus asked. 

“I did something bad,” Shepard blurted. 

He smiled, “Shepard, if you killed him, I wouldn’t blame you.”

She couldn’t help the tense laugh that escaped her mouth, “I came close. No, I, erm…” 

How was she going to say this? How was she going to ask Garrus to be her fake boyfriend? His eyes were on hers, waiting patiently to hear what she had done. 

“He tried to kiss me.” Garrus’s mandibles squeezed tight to his face. One of his fists closed and he moved his hands beneath the table to hide it. Shepard hurried on, “He didn’t get to but I told him… I told him…” 

“That you would throw him out the airlock?” Garrus asked in a half-hearted attempt at humour. 

“I said I had a boyfriend.” 

Garrus tilted his head like he’d misheard her. He continued to wait for more of an explanation but Shepard found she couldn’t quite spit it out. She sipped her coffee and grimaced, it was stone-cold. 

“And?” Garrus prompted, “If I recall our last few trips to Purgatory, it’s not the first time you’ve used that lie.” 

He had her there. Shepard was always spouting off about her imaginary boyfriend to deter creeps. Hell, she was pretty sure she’d once pointed to Garrus across the bar and said she was his to get a persistent creep off her tail. 

“I said it was you.”

 
“Oh.” 

Garrus stared at her, brow-plates raised. Shepard lifted her cup to her mouth and drank again. The coffee was still cold and still gross, but she needed something to do with her hands. She wanted to keep her mouth occupied so she didn’t babble something stupid again. 

“So do I need to…” Garrus trailed off, a hand came up to encompass the end of his sentence. Shepard was briefly distracted by the sharp points of his talons. 

She cleared her throat, took another sip of disgusting coffee. “No. I don’t think we need to do anything, except maybe make goo-goo eyes at each other every so often.” 

“Goo-goo eyes?” 

Shepard laughed, “It’s a human idiom, I guess. It just means, uh, looking lovingly at each other.” 

“Well, I could try that.”

“Don’t make it sound like such a chore, Vakarian.” 

He sighed with forced weariness, “I suppose I can survive twenty-four hours as your fake boyfriend.” 

“Ah, bad news. We can’t travel by mass relay. Don’t ask. So it’ll actually be a week.” 

“A whole week of making goo-goo eyes? Impossible.” 

Shepard laughed. All her stress about her lie had disappeared in the face of Garrus’s sarcasm. She should have known it wouldn’t be a problem. He was her best friend after all. If being her fake boyfriend meant Langston would stop trying to kiss her, Garrus would do it. Hell, if she asked him to throw her out the window to avoid Langston, he probably would. He always watched her six. It was going to be fine. It was only a week, and it wasn’t like she was asking him to bend her over the table in the War Room and have his way with her. 

Shepard’s face warmed at the thought and she took another distracted sip of coffee. She groaned and stood up, dumping her cold coffee in the sink so she’d stop drinking it. She rinsed out her mug and replaced it in the cupboard, then spent a few seconds lining up all the mugs so they faced forwards. She had to stand on her tiptoes to reach because the tall members of her crew had decided that’s where the mugs went. As she reached a hand up to line up the mugs, she felt her t-shirt lift slightly.

She turned around to find Garrus watching her, his eyes on the exposed slip of skin beneath her t-shirt’s hem. He turned his gaze up to hers and smirked, “Just practising.” 

She rolled her eyes, even as heat crawled up her neck, “I’m going to call Hackett.” 

“I’ll miss you.” 

“Hilarious.” 

Chapter Text

News spread fast on the Normandy. The gossip was surprisingly light on the details of Shepard’s sudden new relationship, and very focused on the fact that they were effectively grounded for a week. This was probably due to the All-Crew email Joker had sent, complaining about how everyone was being abused by Shepard and her no Mass Relays rule. The rest of the crew weren’t as put out by this ban as their helmsman, because the longer trip to the Citadel meant their usual schedule could be softened. People began to relax when they weren’t jumping from mission to mission every few hours. Shepard didn’t mind, as long as the ship remained clean and ordered, she would let people relax.

She, of course, could do no such thing. After explaining their situation to Hackett - keeping the details of her fake relationship completely out of it - she retired to the War Room. No immediate mission meant she could finally tackle the mountainous pile of reports she had to read, edit, and finalise. She’d barely gotten through the first few when the door opened and Garrus walked in with two mugs in hand. He sat next to her and handed her a cup of coffee.

She took a grateful sip, unable to take her eyes off her report otherwise she’d lose her place. “What would I do without you?”

“Get shot a lot more often.”

Shepard grinned, he was probably right. That’s why she trusted him to watch her six. He always did it so well. Garrus leaned closer to her, peering at her screen. She caught the smell of his soap and a little armour polish.

“Mission reports, always fun,” he said. He turned his face to look at her and Shepard felt her breath catch in her throat. He was so close to her, she would only have to lean a tiny bit forward to kiss him.

“It’s gotta get done.”

Garrus was about to say something when the door opened again. Langston walked in, his eyebrows raising at the sight of them sat so close together. Shepard spun her chair around to face him, forcing space between her and Garrus, who leaned back as well. Professional distance. Langston strolled into the room. He looked a lot healthier than he had on the ship. His black hair was slicked back, he’d found a spare crew uniform to wear and it practically looked tailored for him. He had a bandage on one hand, a couple of bruises along his jaw, but other than that he looked fine.

He held his hands up innocently, “Didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“You didn’t. Have a seat, Langston, we have a lot to discuss,” Shepard pulled out the chair on her other side without waiting for an agreement. They did a have a lot to discuss, mainly the funds in his many bank accounts and how to best get them to into the galaxy’s war effort funds.

He took a seat, leaning casually back in his chair. He knew he held all the cards here. There was a beat where Shepard met his gaze. He had a good game face, but he wouldn’t win against her. She had a week to work on him, she would get what they needed.

Garrus cleared his throat while Shepard and Langston glared at each other, “I’ll leave you to it.”

“Later,” Shepard said, her eyes still on Langston as Garrus rose and crossed the room. He posted up at his usual terminal, his back to the room as he took a seat. A moment later, keys began clacking from where he worked, he was probably catching up on the reports he’d forgotten to submit before Shepard could notice.

Langston’s mouth quirked into a smirk, “What’s happening later?”

Shepard turned back to her terminal, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. She swiped away the mission reports for later and pulled up a different kind of report. She’d been working on this presentation since they’d heard about Langston being abducted. She turned the terminal screen so he could get a better look. The first slide showed a series of statistics detailing the number of credits each planet had for their army. Shepard began to describe the current dire situation regarding the lack of funding for all soldiers. She made sure to give extra details on the human side of things, Langston was known for his human superiority complex.

As she recited her carefully memorised facts, she could feel Langston’s eyes on her. She turned to find him looking intently at her. Her hand flexed into a fist. If he went for the kiss again, she was going to kill him.

“Are you listening to me?”

“How did you meet?”

“Excuse me?”

Langston nodded his head to Garrus across the room, “How did you meet?”

“On the Citadel,” Shepard said, shortly. “But as I was saying, the Alliance can’t afford to keep their soldiers comfortable. I don’t mean luxury rooms, but the basic necessities. Food that isn’t nutrient paste, beds that aren’t rock hard, clothes that…”

Shepard trailed off. She could see Langston’s eyes glazing over as she spoke. He blearily gazed around the room, admiring dust motes that were apparently more interesting than the soldiers currently fighting to keep him alive. Shepard really wanted to punch him, her hand twitched at the thought. She forced herself to relax, taking a sip of her coffee. Punching him would get her nowhere, but maybe loving it up a little would. Langston had a weird interest in her fake love-life, maybe if she threw him a bone he’d give her five minutes of war talk in return. She flicked her gaze to Garrus, he was all the way across the room, he probably couldn’t even hear them.

“It wasn’t love at first sight,” Shepard confessed. Like a switch had been flipped, Langston was suddenly eager to hear what she was saying. His dark eyes were once more glued to her. “I don’t think that’s even possible for two very different looking species.”

Langston gave her a small nod of agreement.

Shepard flicked a glance to Garrus again but she could hear his fingers typing away, he wasn’t paying any attention.

“It wasn’t instant, it was a build up of trust, connection, enjoyment, stress. So much stress,” she gave a slightly bitter smile at that. “I trust him more than I trust anyone else. I trust my whole crew with my life every day. I would put my life on the line for anyone on this ship and they would do the same, but with him…”

Shepard’s words caught in her throat. She gazed into the middle distance, no longer seeing Langston or her terminal. She couldn’t hear the typing keys or the atmospheric ship noises. She was thinking of conversations over drinks where she’d confessed about her biggest worries, her fears, all the mistakes she’d made so far. She thought about Garrus’s understanding face, his own fears being explained, the little voice in his head that told him he wasn’t enough. She had her own voice like that.

“I trust him with so much more. My mind, my worries, my secrets. He knows me better than anyone else, he knows the real me and that doesn’t scare him. He’s the only person in the galaxy I trust to point a high-powered sniper rifle at my head. He’s the first person I want to talk to when things go well or when they go wrong. He’s the only one who can…”

Make me laugh when I feel like screaming.

That’s what she’d been going to say, but she’d caught herself first. She replayed her word vomit in her head, feeling scratchy heat crawl up her neck. She hadn’t meant to be so honest. She had meant to say some generic things about trust and security, but she’d ended up letting Langston see a deeper part of her. The same part she tried to reserve for Garrus alone. She met Langston’s gaze, he was beaming at the sudden honesty. Across the room, Garrus’s hands had stilled on the terminal.

Shepard cleared her throat, hoping to clear the air of the echo of her words, “Speaking of putting lives into other peoples’ hands, the soldiers on the front-line are in need of real aid, desperately.”

Langston acquiesced, letting her restart her speech about the financial needs of the war effort. She wondered if he heard the shake in her voice. Garrus flicked a glance at her over his shoulder and Shepard pretended not to notice. She couldn’t face this now. The mission had to come first, she could play happy couple later. She had to get a hold of herself before then, this was fake. It wasn’t real, they weren’t really a couple. She had to get better at lying and keeping the truth buried deep in her chest.

“So, what can little old me do for these poor soldiers?” Langston asked after her speech.

The door whizzed open before Shepard could answer. She was going to have to look into locking that thing. Tali burst in, her hands on her hips.

“When were you going to tell me?” she demanded at such a volume that Garrus turned from his terminal to look at her.

“Tell you what?”

“Tell you what,” she muttered, “About you and Garrus obviously! When did you get back together? I can’t believe I had to hear this from Joker of all people!”

“Back together?” Langston asked, tilting his head like a dog that had misheard a command.

“We’ve been together for ages, Tali,” Shepard said, trying to put as much meaning into her words as possible without giving anything away to Langston.

Tali either didn’t understand what her wide-eyed look meant or she chose to ignore it, “Well thanks for telling me!”

“Sorry, you’ll be the first to know next time,” Shepard said through clenched teeth. She gave a tight smile to a very-confused looking Langston and rose from her seat to face Tali. “While you’re here, let’s discuss the recent reports you’ve submitted.”

“Oh, Shepard, it is perfectly acceptable to call someone a bosh’tet in a formal report.”

Shepard walked up to Tali and gestured for her to step into the hallway. Tali relaxed her furious stance and lead the way out of the War Room. With one final tight smile at Langston and a raised finger to ask him to wait one minute, Shepard ducked after her. The door breezed closed behind them but Shepard didn’t want to risk being overheard, she pulled Tali into a maintenance cupboard off the hallway.

“Shepard what-”

“Garrus and I aren’t together, we’re lying to keep Langston from assaulting me with his mouth.”

“Gross.”

“Yeah, gross. So maybe less of the surprise next time.”

“So you’re not together?”

“No.”

“Damn it, Joker owes me my credits back.”

“Your credits?”

“Joker and I had a bet when Garrus came back to the Normandy. We put money on when you’d get back together. We were both way off, by months, but it’s finally happened so Joker managed to convince me he won, somehow.”

“It’s not happened,” Shepard corrected, “We’re not together.”

“Right,” Tali said, but Shepard could hear the scepticism in her voice.

Shepard didn’t have time for this, she had been so close to getting a donation from Langston. She should save this conversation later, and tell her whole crew that it was all a lie. Anything they saw was to be ignored because she and Garrus were just good actors.

But she couldn’t resist asking, “You don’t believe me, do you?”

“No,” she said, matter-of-factly. “I’m not dumb. I was there for the collector base, so were Liara and Joker. You can’t fool us.”

“I’m not trying to fool you! I’m trying to fool that rich idiot in there.”

Tali said something in quarian that the translators refused to pick up. Eventually, it picked up her words, “You’re a real bosh’tet.”

“Tali! I’m your C.O.”

“You’re still a bosh’tet.”

Shepard clapped a hand to her forehead. Why had she engaged? She should’ve let Tali believe whatever and returned to the War Room. This was an argument she’d never win, because she was trying to convince herself as well as Tali, Joker, and Liara. She was in love with Garrus. Hadn’t that little speech earlier proven that? He was the first person to mind when she lied about this relationship. He was the only option for her fake boyfriend.

But none of that mattered, because she had a war to win. She couldn’t run around making out with her crew while the galaxy burned. She had a war to win, people to save, Councillors to prove wrong. Once all of that was done, she could reacquaint herself with Garrus’s mouth, but until then…

Shepard looked at Tali in the dim, small space of the closet. A mop was digging into her back and the smell of bleach was a little overwhelming. She had to make this quick.

“Look, the night before the collector base was…” She almost said it was nothing, but that would be the biggest lie she’d ever told. That night was everything. It had changed so much about her. It was the only thing that had gotten her through house arrest. She still thought about it on those extra-lonely nights in her cabin.

“…Great,” Shepard continued, even though the word didn’t do that moment justice at all. She hurried on when Tali raised her hand to protest, “But it was just a night and it was only because we were going to die.”

“Shepard, we’re going to die now.”

“Not necessarily.”

Tali scoffed, “And I’m not talking about one night. You didn’t pluck Garrus’s name out of a hat that night. You chose him months before.”

Shepard’s brows drew together, “What?”

Tali spoke like she was talking to a very dumb child, “The inside jokes. The constant laughter. You were always sat together at meals. I could practically feel the sizzle in the room when you looked at each other. I had to vent the heat out of my suit when you were together.”

Shepard gave Tali a withering look, “You’re exaggerating.”

“He makes you coffee every morning.”

“Because he’s my friend.”

“He’s never made me coffee.”

“You can’t even drink it!”

“But I can drink turian coffee, and he’s never once offered to make me one,” Tali folded her arms over her chest.

Shepard arched an eyebrow, “You want me to make you a coffee, Tali?”

“Stop ignoring my point. You love him.”

“No I don’t,” Shepard lied. “All of those things, they’re friendship, nothing more. That night was more than that, I admit it, but since then we’ve just been friends. We’re both fighting for our species’ survival, we don’t have time for stuff like that.”

“Yeah, you’re so short on time, you can argue with me in a closet for ten minutes.”

“Tali-”

“Fine, Shepard, I believe you,” Tali said and Shepard could practically hear her eyes roll behind her visor.

“I can tell you’re lying but I really want to leave this conversation, so…” Shepard eased passed Tali as best as she could. She almost dragged the mop with her as she burst out of the maintenance cupboard. She headed back to the War Room without waiting for Tali. She hoped she looked a little less flustered than she felt. Langston wasn’t in the War Room when she returned. Neither was Garrus.

“Great. Thanks Tali,” Shepard grumbled.

She sat back down at her terminal and swiped away her presentation and returned to her reports. She tried to focus on Liara’s extensive report about a mission they’d had months ago, but her mind kept drifting back to Tali’s words. She made a mental note to ask Joker about this bet he’d made, and how many other people he might have involved in it. She couldn’t have her entire crew creeping behind her, waiting for her to kiss Garrus so they could win a couple of credits. It was probably against Alliance rules and more than that it was embarrassing. Was she really so obvious about her feelings?

She shook herself.

“Reports, Shepard.”

* * *

Shepard didn’t see a sign of Langston for the next few hours, and when her eyes finally stopped being able to read the words on her screen she stood up and stretched. Her lower back groaned at the slouched position she’d been in for so long. She decided to go for a walk around her ship to stretch her sleeping muscles. She found Vega, Garrus, and Traynor in the lounge. A movie was playing in the background but none of them were watching.

“Lola!” Vega said as soon as she popped her head in, “You couldn’t pick a human?”

“Excuse me?”

“You picked Scars? Of all the fake boyfriends on this ship, you chose him?”

Shepard glanced at Garrus who was looking rather smug at Vega’s outrage. He shot Shepard a wink and she couldn’t help the smile on her face. Traynor threw a handful of popcorn at Vega’s face.

“What makes you think she’d pick you if she picked a human?”

“She’s not got a lot of other options, has she?” Vega asked, wiping popcorn off his lap.

“Uh, hello? I’m clearly the better choice, right Shepard?” Traynor asked.

“I’m not picking-”

“How are you the better choice?” Vega demanded, interrupting Shepard, “Lola’s not… Lola, you’re not, right?”

“Not what, Vega? Gay?” Traynor asked, smirking at his awkwardness.

“She’s not gay,” Garrus said, “Last I checked, I’m a man.”

“You’re not a man, Scars, you’re a turian.”

“Well, unlucky for you, that’s what Shepard’s into,” Garrus stood up and sauntered over to Shepard. He slipped his arm around her shoulders and Shepard couldn’t help but laugh at the look on Vega’s face. Garrus’s arm was a warm comfort on her aching shoulders.

“Don’t pout Vega, there’s a woman out there for you somewhere,” she said. After a beat, she added, “And if not there’s always your hand.”

“So this is what we have to put up with now?” Vega complained, gesturing at Shepard and Garrus pressed together in the doorway.

“Welcome to the club,” Joker’s voice buzzed over the intercom, “I’ve had to watch this sickening show since the SR-1.”

“Maybe stop watching us through the cameras then,” Shepard shot back.

“At least I can make some credits out of this.”

“Speaking of which, stop betting on my love life!”

“Make me.”

“Oh I’ll make you-”

“Shepard, maybe stop threatening the person in charge of steering us away from black holes,” Garrus said gently.

“I’ll throw him into a black hole!”

“Aw, love has really softened your edges, Commander.”

“Bite me, Joker.”

“Isn’t that Garrus’s-”

“EDI turn off the intercom,” Shepard ordered hastily. Joker’s voice disappeared but Shepard’s glare remained. Why did Joker always know which buttons to press to irritate her? Forget being the best pilot in the Alliance, he was the most annoying person Shepard had ever met. This week was going to be more unbearable with him making comments the whole time. Especially when he was right.

Liara appeared behind Shepard and Garrus and they disentangled themselves to let her through. She looked miffed, her lips pressed together into a pale line. She poured herself a tall drink from the bar, Garrus raised his brow plates at Shepard.

“Uh, all good, Liara?” Shepard asked.

“If that man stays away from me, then yes, it will all be good,” Liara huffed.

“Come on, he can’t be that bad,” Vega ventured.

Liara turned a deathly cold glare on him, “Spend an hour with him and see how you feel then.”

Chapter Text

When the night cycle started, the crew and Langston were in the lounge. Fleet and Flotilla reruns were playing though Garrus wasn’t really watching. He was too busy thinking about how normal this all felt. He had his arm around Shepard’s shoulders. She was tucked tight to his side due to the rest of the crew squashed together on the small couches. Her head was on his shoulder, her hair tickling his neck. They had quickly got into this position when Langston had decided to join them all in the lounge. They were trying to sell their lie as real and even Garrus was becoming convinced. He forced his mind to interpret this as a completely normal interaction between friends, but his hand seemed to move on its own accord, swirling random patterns against the bare skin of her arm.

He locked eyes with Joker, who looked far too aware of the thoughts running through Garrus’s head. Joker picked up his drink, his gaze aimed pointedly at Garrus’s swirling fingers, and then looked back to the TV. Shepard was going to kill him. Garrus might enjoy that fight a little too much. It was going to be much harder to remember this relationship was all an act if people like Joker and Tali were going to insist it was real. Garrus didn’t want that false hope.

When the credits began to roll on the latest episode, Shepard clapped her hands together once. She freed herself from Garrus’s grasp and stood up.

“That’s me done. I’ll see you all tomorrow,” she said. She began to weave past the people sat on the floor to get to the door. She pointed her finger at the crew from the doorway, “Don’t stay up too late, this isn’t shore leave.”

There was a grumbled murmur of Yes Commander, and she smiled.

“Aren’t you going with her?” Langston asked, looking at Garrus.

Garrus’s mouth opened but no sound came out. He shot a rather panicked look at Shepard who was looking back at him blankly. Joker gave a stifled laugh and Shepard shot him such a black look Garrus was surprised when he wasn’t instantly vaporised. Joker buried the rest of his laugh with a handful of popcorn.

“Yeah, Garrus, isn’t it time you went to bed too?” Tali asked.

Shepard narrowed her eyes at her, “Thanks Tali.”

“I don’t understand,” EDI chimed in, “Isn’t it normal for organics to share a bed when they’re in a romantic relationship?”

Joker looked like he was going to hemorrhage trying to keep his laughter in check. He patted EDI’s knee with a huge grin on his face. Garrus decided to save them all the hassle of this charade and stood up.

“You’re right, EDI. Goodnight,” he said, awkwardly.

He crossed the room and joined Shepard in the doorway. Her eyes were still narrowed at the rest of the crew, and Garrus decided to intervene before she found a gun somewhere. He took her hand and gently extracted her from the doorway, pulling her out of the room and towards the lift. When they were out of Langston’s sight and earshot, he released her.

“I see a couple of hours of calisthenics in their future,” Shepard muttered as she jabbed the lift button.

“And Joker?”

“I’m going to make EDI the lead pilot.”

“I think she might be in on the joke. There was no way that question was genuine.”

Shepard shook her head but Garrus could see the smile growing on her face, “I’m going to fire them all.”

“What did you expect, exactly? That they would all accept this fake relationship with nothing more than a shrug? You’re smarter than that.”

“I expected some respect,” she said. The lift arrived and she stepped in, “Though I should’ve learnt my lesson by now.”

Garrus grinned at her and followed her inside. She pressed the button for her cabin. When the lift started to move, Garrus realised what was actually happening. Was he really going to sleep in Shepard’s bed with her? He’d done that before, but under entirely different circumstances. This didn’t feel the same. First of all, he wasn’t a nervous wreck. Secondly, he could easily sneak down to the crew deck, he hadn’t really expected to actually go upstairs with her.

“So, are you going to be able to keep your hands off me or will I need to sneak away when Langston’s gone to bed?” he asked.

Shepard groaned, “Not you too!”

“Sorry,” Garrus laughed, “Couldn’t resist.”

“You’re on the couch, Vakarian.”

“What? Really?”

The lift arrived by her cabin and she headed into the room. She shot a glance over her shoulder as she walked away, “You have to earn your way into my bed.”

Garrus stared after her, his heart beating a little faster than it had a moment ago. Was that real? Part of the act? Just a joke? This was getting confusing. He should really write this is fake on his arm so he could keep up with all of this. When he’d gotten a hold of himself, he followed her into her cabin. He wasn’t surprised to find her posted up at her terminal.

She looked like she had no plans to go to bed, so Garrus sat down on her couch. He could just make her out behind the glass wall of ship models between them. Her lower lip was clamped between her teeth as her eyes skimmed the report on her screen. He thought about telling her to go to bed, but he knew that was a losing battle before he even started. Instead, he picked up the datapad on her table. It was open to Langston’s autobiography. He flipped to the last page he’d read carried on.

Every so often, his eyes left the datapad and sought her out. She was always in the same position, always looking tense and faintly glowing in the terminal light. There was no sign that she was planning to sleep any time tonight. She met his eyes through the model ship wall.

“You can sleep. Don’t wait for me,” Shepard said quietly.

Garrus waved the datapad, “Actually this just got interesting. Langston’s talking about how, at eighteen, he left his parents’ house with nothing but the clothes on his back and a small 50,000 credit loan they’d given him.”

Shepard snorted, “He’s the worst.”

Her eyes drifted back to the terminal.

“If you want to end our relationship for him, I’d understand,” he said.

Garrus was rewarded with a smile but her eyes stayed glued to the screen. It was getting harder and harder to pull her away from her work these days. He got it, there was a war on, but if Shepard couldn’t find a way to relax she would have a heart attack before she even got close to the reapers.

Garrus turned his gaze back to the datapad but he wasn’t reading. Instead, he thought about the last time he’d been in this room, under very different circumstances. Armed with nothing but a bottle of wine and all the awkwardness of a fledging on his first date. He remembered her so clearly from that night. She’d looked more beautiful than ever in the low light, her eyes bright and hopeful. How confident she’d sounded even as Garrus could feel the thrumming of her heart through her skin. How it had been awkward and ungraceful at first, but how they’d soon found they fitted together better than they ever could’ve imagined. He remembered the soft feel of her in his arms as she slept.

But now it had all changed.

Not for Garrus. He still yearned for her. Every time he looked at her, he ached to hold her. He wanted to tell her she was amazing, impossible, stronger than anyone he knew in every sense of the word. He wanted to kiss her, to taste her, unravel her with his tongue until she could only remember his name and nothing of this war.

But her priorities had changed. When they'd been separated there was only the brimming war on the horizon. Close, uncomfortably so, but not there, not then. And when they'd been reunited it was already drowning them, already too far gone to steal some last moments together. They’d missed their shot and it would forever be the biggest regret of Garrus’s life.

Shepard had to fight this war. He got that. He had to fight it too. But he craved to hold her again, to tell her how much he loved her. If being her fake boyfriend meant they got a few tiny moments together, Garrus would happily take them. He’d savour these morsels of normality, even if they were fake.

* * *

Shepard never went to sleep. Garrus remained on the couch, burning through Langston’s autobiography like it was the galaxy’s next bestseller. It definitely wasn’t, but Garrus was determined to stay awake as long as she did. Every so often, his eyes would drift closed without his permission. He’d slip into the beginnings of sleep, but he was always woken up by something - an email ping, a particularly strong slam of the Enter key, a weary sigh.

At one point, he heard a heavy thump, but he was already drifting into sleep by then. He’d lain down, he didn’t know when. Shepard’s couch wasn’t nearly as comfortable as her bed. The datapad in his hand began to slip out of his grasp, sliding closer to the floor. His breathing began to even out as he relaxed. The room was quiet, the usual ship sounds began to lull him closer to sleep. The whir and tick of the air cycle, the deep buzz of the engine, the occasional hum of some electronic process happening in the ship walls.

Garrus opened his eyes. The room was too quiet. Shepard had stopped typing. He eased himself up and looked over at her, but she wasn’t visible behind the wall of ships. She couldn’t have left, he would have heard her. He placed the datapad on the table and stood up. Padding across the room quietly, he went to inspect what had happened to her.

She was asleep, finally. Her arms were folded on her keyboard, her head on top of them. She was in the middle of an email to someone, her sentence suddenly cutting off into a long line of GGGGGGGGGGGGG. Garrus watched her for a moment. Her breath coming out in little huffs that made a few strands of her hair dance in front of her face. Her face was relaxed, that tiny furrow of stress between her eyebrows was gone for once. Her skin was faintly blue from the light of the aquarium and tiny bumps were raised on her arms.

Goosebumps, he remembered Shepard calling them. Something humans developed when they were cold. He moved quietly across the room, pulling a soft blanket off her bed. Returning to her side, he carefully draped it around her chair and her shoulders, trying not to wake her. If she awoke now, she'd go back to writing her emails. Garrus gently tucked her in. She made a soft noise, that furrow reappearing between her brows as she subconsciously adjusted herself. She couldn't be comfortable there. Her neck and shoulders were going to ache in the morning, her cheeks would have imprints from the keys.

Garrus glanced across the room. Could he carry her to bed without waking her? Probably not. Would she beat him if she caught him in the act? Almost definitely.

He had to make do with putting her terminal into sleep mode so she didn't accidentally send nonsense to people, and ensuring the blanket was nice and secure around her. He paused for another moment to watch her, all bundled up, sleeping peacefully. He held his breath and reached a hand out. He brushed her hair off her face with his fingertips as gently as he could manage.

He walked back to her bed and slipped a spare pillow off it. If Shepard wasn't going to use them, he might as well. He folded it in half and used it to position his head and crest away from the hard arm of her couch. He let the atmospheric sounds of the ship push him gently into sleep.

Chapter Text

The first thing Shepard saw when she woke up was her aquarium. This meant only one thing - she’d fallen asleep at her desk again. Her shoulders and neck were going to kill her when she moved, so she opted to stay still, watching her fish swim lazily around their tank. They needed a new toy, that’s what she’d do when she landed on the Citadel. Maybe she could find a store that would make an aquarium decoration in the shape of a Mako vehicle.

She moved, groaning as her neck creaked like an old hinge. As she sat up, a blanket slipped off her shoulders and pooled around the back of her chair. She ran through a series of gentle stretches, listening to the cracks and groans of her joints. She really had to stop sleeping at her desk, she was going to end up with a permanently crooked neck at this rate.

“Commander, you are awake,” EDI said over the intercom.

Shepard grunted as her shoulders twinged, “It would appear so.”

“Garrus asked me to pass on a message when you awoke.”

Shepard glanced at the couch through the wall of ship models, it was empty. There was no sign of him, not even a wrinkle on her couch. He must have left an hour ago, he always claimed he didn’t need as much sleep as she did.

“Hit me,” she said, rising to her feet.

“He says you’re welcome for the blanket.”

Shepard scooped up the crumpled blanket. She folded it swiftly and replaced it on the end of her bed.

“He would also like me to say if you plan on ignoring a perfectly good bed again this week, let him know.”

Shepard smirked, “Where is he now?”

“Garrus is with Mr. Langston and Tali in the mess hall.”

“That sounds fun,” Shepard deadpanned. She changed into a fresh set of clothes. She should really shower but from the sounds of it, she didn’t have time. “What are they talking about?”

There was a slight pause, presumably where EDI zeroed in on the conversation in the mess hall. “Mr. Langston is trying to coax Garrus into a conversation about human-turian relations during and immediately after the First Contact War. It does not appear to be going well.”

“Thanks EDI. I should probably stop that.”

Shepard hurried her way through brushing her teeth. She splashed cold water on her face in the hopes of making it look less obvious that she slept on her terminal keyboard again. A glance in the mirror told her she hadn’t done a great job, but she had to go rescue Garrus. She took the lift down and headed straight for the mess hall. Tali was sat off alone at one end of the table, trying her hardest to not get roped into the conversation. Garrus wasn’t as lucky, and he shot Shepard a weary look when she walked in.

Langston beamed at her, “Ah, the woman I was waiting for! Six hundred and twenty-three human lives were lost in the First Contact War, Commander, did you know that?”

Shepard sat down next to Garrus, “Of course I did, Langston. Did you know there more turian casualties in that war?”

“Exactly, another reason not to mess with humans.”

Garrus stood up and headed for the fridge with a barely audible grumble.

“That wasn’t my point,” Shepard said with a sigh. “What brought this little history lesson about anyway?”

“Well… I thought the people of this ship could use a little lesson on human and turian relationships,” Langston said with a pointed look at Garrus’s back.

“I think everyone on this ship is very familiar with them already,” Tali muttered, still turned away from Langston.

“Right, thanks, Tali,” Shepard said. “That’s because the Normandy SR-1 was built by turians and humans, working together.”

“Yes, that’s exactly what I meant,” Tali muttered again.

“I guess you really are a spokesperson for interspecies liaisons,” Langston said, evidently losing interest in this history lesson. He said interspecies liaisons like it was a dirty phrase and Shepard bristled.

Garrus placed a mug in front of Shepard and took his seat next to her again. The smell of coffee wafted up to Shepard’s nose and she took a grateful sip. For someone who didn’t drink coffee, Garrus was really good at making it. Tali twisted in her seat to face the three of them now the anti-turian conversation had come to an end. She tilted her head at the coffee in Shepard’s hands and Shepard rolled her eyes.

Slowly, the others began to come down for breakfast. First Liara, then Cortez, Traynor, and Vega. Even Joker and EDI came down instead of eating breakfast on the Flight Deck like usual. There were so many of them in such a small space that Shepard ended up squeezed against Garrus’s side. It had been the same last night in the lounge, she couldn’t prove they were doing this on purpose but she was suspicious. They hardly ever gathered around like this, but surely they weren’t doing it just to push Garrus and Shepard closer?

Garrus stretched his arm up and wrapped it around her shoulders like he had last night. Shepard could get used to this fake relationship thing, she wasn’t sure how she was going to enjoy her morning coffee again without Garrus’s arm around her. His skin was so warm she could feel it through her t-shirt.

“So,” Langston said, when everyone had settled with their food. “I’ve heard the story of how you met, how about your first kiss?”

The jolly conversations around the table ceased, and everyone turned to look at Shepard. She brought her cup up to her mouth and sipped, mainly to avoid having to speak yet. Her mind had already conjured up the memory. Her and Garrus in her cabin, heady with wine and built up tension. The blue light of her aquarium emphasising the paint on his face, bringing out the colour in his eyes, as he leaned in. She had had to stand on her tip-toes. His hands could practically wrap around her whole waist.

She caught herself before the memory could go much further, her face flushed when she realised everyone was still staring at her, expectantly.

“I don’t think that’s appropriate conversation,” she said, wrapping her hands around her mug and pretending it was wholly more interesting than anything else happening at the table.

“Oh come on,” Langston whined, “I’m not asking you to tell me about the first time you fucked.”

Garrus choked on his food. He coughed violently, pulling his arm away from Shepard to cover his mouth. Shepard couldn’t even look at him because her mind was already racing ahead, thinking about what came after that kiss. The feel of Garrus’s rough hide, the sound of his voice when he said her name. In the mess hall, Garrus was still spluttering. Joker and Tali shared a look that Shepard didn’t like and Liara was looking politely amused.

Garrus got a hold of himself, in a hoarse voice, he said, “Sorry.”

Shepard wanted the Normandy to crash into the nearest planet. She wanted her coffee to be dextro instead of levo, making her go into anaphylaxis. She wanted someone to suddenly start shooting at her ship. She wanted anything that would get her out of this situation.

“I really don’t think the crew wants to hear this story,” Shepard said, though judging by the tilt of Vega’s head he was already imagining it. Traynor and Cortez were looking between Shepard’s mouth and Garrus’s mouth, and she could practically see their brains trying to make those mouths fit together.

“Who doesn’t love a love story?” Langston asked.

“I, for one, love a love story,” Joker grinned.

“Shouldn’t you be flying the ship?” Shepard snapped.

“EDI’s got it.”

“Then why am I paying you?”

Joker looked at her defiantly for a moment before he acceded and stood up. EDI helped him leave the mess hall and return to the Flight Deck. Shepard was going to pay them a visit later, maybe wipe that smile off Joker’s face.

“Speaking of being paid, don’t the rest of you have work to do?”

The rest of her crew gave minor grumbles, but at least the overt interest was off their faces. She wondered how long it would be before they stopped imaging her and Garrus fumbling their way through an awkward kiss. As the others ate the last dregs of their breakfast and began to clean up, Langston remained in his chair. Shepard wished she could order him around, it would make her life so much easier if she could stick him with the maintenance team. Though, she might have a revolt on her hands if she did that.

Langston continued to stare at Shepard and Garrus as the others began to mill out of the room, getting back to their duties.

“There’s a shuttle that needs my attention,” Garrus said, breaking the silence.

“I’ll come with you,” Shepard said, diving on the one chance she had to escape Langston’s stare. She hadn’t realised just how anti-interspecies relationships he was, but it was starting to grate on her. As soon as he had been dumped on the Citadel, she was going to wash her hands of him for good.

Shepard followed Garrus into the lift and down to the Shuttle Bay. She brought up her omni-tool to check her emails as they went, wandering behind Garrus as he picked up a toolbox and headed for the broken shuttle. She took a seat on a metal box by the shuttle, typing out a reply to an email begging for a meeting next time she was on the Citadel. Garrus slid under the shuttle, disappearing from the waist up.

Shepard glanced over, admiring Garrus’s strong legs. Unbidden, the thought of straddling him rose into her mind. She dragged her teeth over her lower lip, remembering the feeling of him between her thighs. Or, maybe she could stand with her feet on either side of him, and wait until he slid out from beneath the shuttle.

“Uh, Lola?” Vega asked. He clicked his fingers in front of her face, dragging her out of her indecent thoughts. “You hear me?”

“Huh?”

Vega looked between Shepard and Garrus’s lower half sticking out from under the terminal. Whatever Garrus was doing under there was generating a lot of noise and Shepard hoped it could cover the sound of her pounding heart.

“It doesn’t matter,” Vega said, another flick of a glance between Shepard and Garrus. He backed away.

Shepard sighed. She really had to reign in her lustful gaze. She had made a joke about goo-goo eyes to Garrus, but that was only supposed to be in front of Langston. She left Garrus under the shuttle, and headed for the Flight Deck.

Joker spun his chair around when she arrived, “So your first kiss-”

“Don’t, Joker. I get enough of this off Langston.”

“Yeah, he’s even more interested in your relationship than Tali,” Joker pulled a face, “Weird guy.”

“Don’t tell him you’re with EDI or he’ll bombard you with questions,” Shepard grimaced. “How much longer until the Citadel?”

“At least five more days,” EDI said.

“Great,” Joker and Shepard said in unison. Joker grinned at her, “I don’t know why you’re upset, you’ve got five more days to play Mrs. Vakarian.”

“Five more days for me to think of a creative way to kill you.”

Joker didn’t look afraid, perhaps because Shepard had threatened him so many times without ever doing anything about it. EDI tapped a few buttons on the dashboard and then turned to face Shepard and Joker.

“Commander, I have a question about organic behaviour.”

“Of course you do,” Shepard sighed. She gestured for EDI to ask.

“If the aim of organic relationships is to reproduce, then you and Garrus do not make biological sense.”

“That’s not really a question.”

EDI paused for a moment, her mind working for a better way of phrasing her question. After a pregnant pause, she said, “Why are you with Garrus if you cannot produce children together?”

Shepard blinked at EDI as Joker laughed. He leaned over and patted EDI’s knee, “I love you, EDI.”

“Okay, I can answer this,” Shepard said. She pointed at Joker’s hand on her knee, “Can you have a child with Joker?”

EDI looked over at Joker, “No. Should we break up?”

“No, no, no,” Joker said hastily, “Organics don’t just date people to have babies. Shepard and Garrus are in love.”

“No, we’re not!” Shepard said. She’d walked herself into this one. “We’re pretending to date. But Joker’s right, people don’t date so they can have babies. They date because they love each other.”

“And they pretend to date when they’re too chicken to confess their real feelings,” Joker said, sagely.

“Fly the ship, Joker. The sooner you get us to the Citadel, the sooner we can be free of Langston.”

“But then you’d have to stop cuddling with Garrus at every meal.”

“Fly the ship, Joker.”

Chapter Text

Garrus spent most of the day under or in various parts of the shuttle. It had really been through hell. Then again, almost everything on this ship - crew included - had been through hell. He had just finished fixing a leaking fuel line under the shuttle when he heard voices. He was about to roll out from beneath the shuttle when Vega’s words caught up to him.

“So, how much did you bet?”

Cortez replied, “Are you kidding? I lost nearly a hundred credits last month, I’m not betting again.”

“Esteban, don’t be a coward.”

“How much did you bet then, Moneybags?”

“Thirty credits. I said tomorrow.”

“I don’t see it.”

“You’ve never seen them on the battlefield. They move like one person, Lola barely has to explain what she wants him to do before he’s already done it. I wonder if that’s what they’re like in bed,” Vega mused.

There was a thump and a shout of pain. Garrus assumed Cortez had hit Vega. He was glad Cortez had done it because Garrus was close to wheeling out from beneath the shuttle and doing the same. He imagined Cortez would be a little nicer than he would.

“Hey, hey, hey! I won’t say it again, put that down.” There was a clatter of a tool landing on the floor. Vega continued now he was safer, “I mean it though, they’re acting now, but they aren’t acting out there. I never really thought about it before, but they make sense together. I mean, they don’t , because of the whole… anatomy thing.”

Garrus rolled his eyes. Why was that everyone’s first worry? Not the fact that humans and turians as species had always been tense around each other, at best. Or the fact that they couldn’t even share a cup of coffee without one of them dying. Or hell, even the fact that she was his superior officer! No, no, it was always about their anatomy.

“But they do,” Vega concluded. “Plus, I saw her practically salivating over him before.”

That got Garrus’s attention. A brow plate arched up and he kept perfectly still so he could hear the two of them clearly.

Cortez laughed, “You did not. The Commander does not salivate.”

“I had to wave my hand in front of her face to get her attention.”

“Stop exaggerating. C’mon, help me with this.”

“I’m telling you the truth, she’s got it bad.”

There was a series of grunts and something scraping across the floor. Garrus remained under the shuttle. He couldn’t come out now. Plus, his mind was already wandering. Had Shepard really been salivating over him? Well, not literally, probably. He hoped it was true. He caught his own gaze fixed on her way more than he should these days. Just the other day when she’d stretched to organise the mugs, he’d been unable to take his eyes off the long line of her torso. He’d wanted to wrap his hands around that slim waist. If she was looking back at him, Garrus would feel a lot better about his own inappropriate glances.

“What about the Langston bet?” Vega grunted, “That’s an easy win, it’s definitely going to happen.”

“It’s not if it’ll happen, it’s who,” Cortez said with a strained voice.

“My money’s on Scars, one more lecture about the First Contact War and he’ll shoot him, I know it.”

Their voices faded away as they headed out of the Shuttle Bay. Garrus slid out from under the shuttle. He was still thinking about Shepard salivating over him. It had to be fake. It was Vega’s imagination. The whole crew had been bitten by some love-bug since Shepard’s fake relationship lie, they were seeing what they wanted to see. If Shepard ordered Garrus to clean the toilets, the crew would probably spin it as some kind of romantic test.

He chuckled at the ridiculousness of it all. Yeah, he had a crush on Shepard, who didn’t? Garrus would bet all his credits that more than half the galaxy wanted her. Garrus had been on the SR-1 when Alenko and Liara were practically throwing themselves at her. Given the chance, Garrus knew most people would say yes to her, including most of the people on this ship.

Hell, this whole thing had been started because Langston had made a move.

In the lift up to the Crew Deck, Liara hopped in with him. She flicked a glance at him, “What are you grinning at?”

“Nothing. Are you still managing the betting pool?”

Liara feigned innocence, “I don’t know what you’re referring to.”

“Liara, I’ve bet in that thing so many times. Send me the list.”

“Fine,” Liara brought up her omnitool. Before she typed anything though, she gave him a stern look that vaguely reminded him of Shepard, “You know the rules, you can’t bet on anything involving yourself.”

Garrus held his hands up innocently, “That’s not the bet I’m interested in.”

Liara searched his face for another moment, before giving in and typing rapidly on her omnitool. A moment later, his omnitool lit up and Garrus opened the Normandy betting pool. There were a lot of active bets about him and Shepard. His mandibles squeezed tight to his face when he saw the kind of thing the crew was betting on. They all needed cold showers. Some of the bets were pure filth. Liara giggled at his expression.

“Shepard’s gonna have us running drills 24/7 if she gets her hands on this,” Garrus said, scrolling through the excessive list of bets.

“She can’t access this one, invite-only,” Liara confessed. She pointed her finger at Garrus threateningly, “Don’t tell her.”

“It’s on your head.”

“No bets on yourself,” Liara reminded him when the doors breezed open. She exited with a final warning look at Garrus.

He went the other way towards the lounge. He placed credits on the few bets that didn’t feature the future of his and Shepard’s relationship. Traynor popped in a moment later, she looked surprised to see him but then settled into a smile. After helping herself to a drink, she sat cross-legged on the couch opposite him. Garrus stared back as she stared at him thoughtfully. He had the distinct impression her was being scrutinised.

“Can I help you?” he asked.

“What’s it like?”

“What’s what like?” Garrus asked, dreading the question.

“The shower. In her room. I’ve always wondered,” she unfolded herself and lay across the couch. She sighed dreamily, “I bet you can control the temperature.”

“The crew showers aren’t that bad.”

She flicked him a look of disgust, “They’re always ice-cold.”

“I can’t tell you, I didn’t shower in her room,” Garrus said. Which was technically true about last night, but not entirely true. He had used Shepard’s shower once. But he wouldn’t be able to tell Traynor about the shower itself, just about how Shepard’s skin tasted when it was wet. He had a feeling Traynor wouldn’t be interested in that knowledge.

“The bed, then?”

Garrus shrugged, “I didn’t sleep in the bed either.”

“What?”

“I slept on the couch.”

“She made you sleep on the couch?” Tali said, appearing in the doorway. She walked in and perched on a stool by the bar, “That’s cold.”

“She didn’t make me, I chose to.”

Tali and Traynor shared a look. Garrus sighed wearily. How Shepard put up with this without firing everyone was beyond him. Two minutes of questions and silent-conversation-glances had him wishing he was anywhere but here.

“What was that look for?”

Tali answered, “I thought you’d share a bed. And maybe partway through the night, you’d wake up to find you were accidentally spooning her. You’d move away, embarrassed, but she’d hold tighter to your arm, and you’d decide maybe you should stay here.”

Garrus looked at her, unamused. “Did that happen in Fleet and Flotilla?”

“Only in, like, every season.”

“This isn’t a rom-com, Tali.”

“You sound like Shepard.” Tali affected a voice that Garrus assumed was supposed to sound like Shepard, “ You’re exaggerating, Tali. We’re just friends.”

“We are just friends!”

“Either you two are lying or you’re the dumbest people I’ve ever met.”

Garrus waved his hand impatiently. He wasn’t going to have this argument. Why was everyone so interested anyway? When they’d had their one night together before the Collector Base, there had been no chatter. Sure, they’d been embarking on a suicide mission the very next day, but he’d expected some comments from the crew. But now he and Shepard were pretending to date, the whole ship was up in arms about it.

“I know you’re pretending…” Traynor said. She smirked at Garrus, “But do you like her?”

“I’m leaving.”

“He didn’t say no,” Traynor stage-whispered as Garrus left the lounge.

* * *

When the night cycle started, Garrus walked into Shepard’s cabin. She turned from her terminal and raised her eyebrows at him.

“Did you just let yourself into my cabin, Vakarian?” she asked, amused.

“It was either that, or murder Langston with my bare hands.”

“Do I even want to know what he said?”

“Nope.”

Shepard trusted his word and didn’t press. She turned back to her terminal. Again, it looked like she was going to get no sleep other than passing out on her keyboard. Garrus walked behind her. He leaned over her shoulder, her fingers skidded on the keys at his sudden proximity but she recovered quickly, deleting her mistake. He could smell her shampoo, hear the slight hitch in her breath. He watched her compile reports by mission date.

“You should go to bed,” he said softly.

He was sure she gave the slightest shiver as his breath tickled her hair.

“You can have it.”

“The bed? I don’t want it. I want you to use it.”

“Pass.”

Garrus placed his hands on the back of her chair and forcefully spun her around. Again, her eyebrows raised at his insubordination. He caught the arms of her chair to stop her from spinning back to the terminal. It was time for some tough love. He wasn’t going to watch Shepard pass out from exhaustion for the rest of the week. He would never have let it go on this long if he had known. She was the galaxy’s only hope, she needed to be protected.

“Why won’t you sleep in the bed?” he asked.

She didn’t meet his gaze, her eyes focused on a clasp on Garrus’s collar. “I’ve got too much work to do.”

“Easily fixed, I’ll do the reports for you.” That made her meet his eye, a smirk on her lips. Garrus chuckled, “Okay, I’d get Liara to do them, but they’d still get done.”

“I have to do them. I’m the Commander of this ship.” She reached down and grasped his hands, her skin cool on his. Before he had time to react, she wrenched his grip off her chair and used her knee to nudge him away. “Now go to sleep, Garrus, that’s an order.”

She turned back to her terminal. Garrus didn’t give up so easily, she had to know that. He leaned on her desk, his leg very close to the keyboard. She gave a short laugh at his disobedience but didn’t stop typing.

“You can’t order biological functions,” he said.

“I’ll order what I want to order.”

Garrus moved to turn off the terminal but she caught his hand, yanking it backwards. His other hand shot out for the screen. She shoved him. He kicked her chair, sending her and it rolling across the floor. As she scrambled to stop herself, Garrus switched off her terminal. She cursed at him. He ignored her and crouched under the desk to unplug the cord.

“I’ll plug it back in.”

“Don’t make me carry you, Shepard.”

She scowled at him, “Don’t you dare.”

He pointed across the room, “Get to bed.”

One of her eyebrows quirked up and he felt heat rush up his neck. He forced himself not to falter. If she spotted weakness, she would fight him again. They glared at each other, Garrus still pointing at the bed, Shepard still in her desk chair, arms folded stubbornly across her chest. They were at a stalemate. Shepard was unlucky it was Garrus fighting her on this, anyone else would have given in when she’d ordered them to. But not Garrus, he wasn’t exactly new to being insubordinate.

“Fine!” she snapped. She stood up and shoved her chair towards him. Garrus stopped it with his foot. She placed her hand on her hip, and cocked them to one side. She had to know what that did to her silhouette. She was doing it on purpose. Garrus refused to get distracted, purposefully turning his gaze away from her waist. She eyed him, “A compromise then.”

“If it involves you and this desk, the answer is no.”

“The couch.”

“That’s where I sleep.”

“And?”

There was something in her eyes that Garrus couldn’t pinpoint. Was this a plot? Was this a way to get back to her desk? Or was it something else? He didn’t let his mind wander, as much as it wanted to. He had to stand firm. If Shepard slept at her desk one more time, he would have failed. The couch was a step towards the bed, he could live with that.

“Agreed.” He headed for the couch. As he passed her, he whispered, “But keep your hands to yourself.”

She laughed softly, “I’ll try.”

They sat on the couch together. Shepard gave one final longing look at her terminal, before twisting to face him. She shuffled into the corner of the couch and brought her legs up, bending her knees. She could look at him more fully now, and she did so. Garrus arched a browplate at her, like she had done to him earlier. A soft bloom of colour came to her cheeks and she looked away.

“You’re not sleeping,” he pointed out.

“You can’t order biological functions, Vakarian,” she said. “Plus, I said couch, I didn’t say I’d sleep on the couch.”

“A technicality. I could knock you out if it would help.”

She stood up. “I have a better idea.”

She crossed the room and produced two bottles of wine from somewhere unseen. She placed them on the table and went to rummage for glasses. Garrus didn’t think too hard about the fact that one of them was clearly labelled Dextro . She returned a moment later, opened both bottles and poured them each a glass.

She held hers up, “To compromise.”

“To getting some sleep,” he shot back, clinking his glass against hers.

She sat back down. After a pause, she stretched her legs across the couch, resting them in Garrus’s lap. Almost without thinking, Garrus’s hand came down to rest on her shin. This was better than the bed. It was a lot more comfortable. Garrus hardly second-guessed what was happening as Shepard settled, her legs heavy on his.

He sipped his wine. “I heard about a new crew bet today.”

Shepard groaned, throwing an arm over her face, “There’s nothing this crew loves more than betting. Let me guess, it was about us.”

“Well… there were a lot of bets about us. A lot. ” Garrus felt that same embarrassed heat crawl up his neck when he remembered the array of bets he’d read today. He drummed his talons against his glass, sending a tinkling sound around the room, “But the one I’m thinking of involves Langston, not us.”

“Oh?” Shepard perked her head up.

“Who’s going to punch Gordan Langston before we reach the Citadel?”

Shepard laughed gleefully. “Who’s leading?”

Garrus tilted his head at her, “Who do you think?”

“Okay, who’s leading after me?”

“Money’s split between me and Tali.”

“Tali, really?”

“I believe Langston has some opinions on the quarians’ current predicament.”

“Ah,” Shepard said, knowingly. “Who’d you bet on?”

“My money is always on you,” Garrus tapped his talon against her knee at that last word.

“I’ll try not to let you down.”

“You never do,” Garrus said earnestly.

Shepard sipped her wine, gazing at him. He had to look away from her. That gaze was going to get him in trouble. This game was going to end when they docked at the Citadel. He could drink wine with her now and let her gaze at him, but there was a deadline to this. They weren’t together. As much as he ached to draw her closer to him, he couldn’t. This was pretend. This was their friendship, nothing more.

“Did you fix my shuttle?”

“Sure did,” Garrus said, glad for the casual conversation to distract him. He looked at her on the couch, no sign that she was going to sleep on her bed ever again. “Are you going to tell me what’s wrong with the bed?”

She turned her attention to her wine, “No.”

“Can I guess?”

“No.”

“Are they the same as last time or are they different?”

She frowned at her glass. She threw back the last of her wine and poured herself another. She didn’t deny the existence of her nightmares. Garrus had had a feeling that was what was going on. It was the same as before the Collector Base, she’d pulled away from the bed then, too. Garrus had managed to coax her back though.

“Some old favourites, some new,” she said, at last.

“Shepard, I can-”

“You can’t,” she said, shutting him down firmly.

Garrus swallowed his argument. She wasn’t one to accept help so easily, not even from him. He let her change the subject to idle chatter for now. He wasn’t going to let this go though. He would get her in that bed by the end of the week. She would sleep in there again, he was determined.

* * *

Garrus woke up cold. He shifted slightly and felt Shepard’s legs tangled with his. He sat up as best as he could without shifting his legs. The two of them had become a turian-human braid at some point in the night, their legs tangled together comfortably. Garrus saw goosebumps on Shepard’s arms again. He really needed to talk to her about the temperature of her cabin. She had full control of it, there was no need for it to be this cold. Reluctantly, he extracted his legs from Shepard’s. He couldn’t avoid jostling her, and too late, he realised he’d woken her up.

“Stop moving,” she grumbled.

“I’m getting you a blanket.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re going to freeze to death.”

She gave him a sleepy smile, “Turians really hate the cold, huh?”

“I’m doing this for you.”

She gave a sceptical grunt. Garrus, still half-asleep, rose from the couch and staggered towards the bed. He found the same blanket from last night and brought it back. He draped it delicately over her and she looked at him through heavy-lidded eyes. He flashed her a wink and earned a sleepy chuckle in response. Content that she was now safe from the chill in the air, he lay back down on his half of the couch. He kept his feet on the floor, to avoid the inappropriate entwining from reoccurring.

Shepard shifted. She flung the blanket off herself and let it land heavily on Garrus.

“You’re the cold one, you have the blanket,” she said.

He sat up, pulling the blanket off him. She had already lain back down, so he firmly lay the blanket back over her, tucking it in at the edges. When she scowled at him, he returned her stern look.

“It’s yours,” he insisted, “Now go to sleep.”

“Yes, Sir,” she muttered sarcastically.

He watched her for a few seconds, making certain that she wasn’t planning to return the blanket to him again. She watched him from under heavy lids, her face the kind of soft tenderness that only appeared in the dark hours of night. Satisfied, Garrus lay back down.

It wasn’t long before Shepard was moving again. She moved so much the couch dipped with her.

“Shepard,” he grumbled.

“Vakarian,” she mimicked his deep tones.

Abruptly, she wiggled into the space between him and the couch back. Garrus startled and froze. She dragged the blanket over with her, effectively covering them both. There was a brief shuffle as she tried to find a comfortable position on him, her knees knocking against his legs, his arm jutting out uncomfortably beneath her. Finally, she pressed her head into the crook of his shoulder, her palm flat over his keel.

“What are you doing?” he breathed, as though speaking any louder would scare her away.

“Compromising,” she replied.

Garrus thought of Tali’s comment in the lounge earlier, about them accidentally spooning in the night. Well, it wasn’t spooning, and it sure as hell wasn’t accidental, but it came pretty close to romantic. Garrus wrapped his arm around her shoulders, drawing her closer. He body was already warming up next to his perpetual heat. Her hair tickled his neck. He could feel her chest rising and falling as her breath evened out. Sleep began to coax Garrus back down.

Chapter Text

Shepard woke up alone. The blanket she’d draped across her and Garrus last night was wrapped tightly around her, tucked in at the edges to prevent wayward limbs escaping into the cool air. There was no sign of Garrus, and if Shepard couldn’t still smell his soap on the blanket under her chin, she might have believed she’d dreamt it all last night. Then again, her dreams weren’t nearly that kind to her. Last night had been the best night’s sleep she’d had in a while, but that wasn’t much of a competition these days. She let her eyes drift closed again, remembering the fever hot heat of Garrus’s body, the comforting heavy weight of his arm around her shoulders.

“Commander, you are awake,” EDI’s voice rang out from the intercom.

Shepard pulled the blanket up over her face. Her voice was muffled when she said, “Barely.”

“Garrus has asked me to relay another message.”

Shepard poked her head out from beneath the blankets, a small smile playing on her lips. She pressed her head to the couch arm, where the vague scent of Garrus became stronger. She thought of the startled pound of his heartbeat when she’d lain her hand on his chest. His nervous what are you doing?

“Have you told him you’re an advanced AI system and not a voicemail service?” Shepard asked.

“I have not.”

“What’s the message?”

“He would like me to tell you he can get used to compromises.”

Shepard’s face broke into a grin, warmth flooded her chest. She wanted to burrow under the blanket forever and cling to this feeling for even longer. She was actually looking forward to tonight when she could sleep on the couch with Garrus again. They weren’t ready for the bed - she definitely wasn’t ready to return to those nightmare-soaked sheets - but the couch was good. The couch was perfect. Anywhere would be perfect with Garrus’s hard body next to hers.

“Thanks EDI.”

Reluctantly, Shepard pushed off the blanket and stood up. She folded the blanket again, but instead of returning it to the bed, she threw it over the back of the couch. They would probably need it tonight. She took her time in the shower and admired her clothes in the mirror for any flaws. She couldn’t let the crew know what had happened last night, they’d be all over the news like jackals. Besides, what was some platonic cuddling between friends?

She laughed at that, and headed for the lift.

The majority of the crew was in the mess hall, having an extra long breakfast. Langston was sat alone at the head of the table looking bored, with Tali, Traynor, and Liara on one side of him, and Garrus and Vega on the other. There was an empty chair on Garrus’s other side and Shepard assumed that was saved for her. Almost as soon as she sat down, Garrus got up to make her a coffee, like clockwork. Tali and Traynor shared a look, but Shepard was in too much of a good mood to bother calling them out.

When Garrus had placed her mug in front of her and sat back down, Traynor asked, “So where will you live?”

“Am I being kicked out?” Garrus asked, amused.

“After the war, I mean, when you two have done fighting, where are you going to live?”

Shepard sipped her coffee thoughtfully.

“Earth,” she said at the same time Garrus said, “Palaven.”

“Palaven?” she demanded at the same time Garrus scoffed, “Earth?”

“I can’t live on Palaven, it’s way too hot!” Shepard cried.

“It’s the perfect temperature. The same temperature across the whole planet, unlike Earth with it’s ice ,” Garrus put air-quotes around the last word.

“A bit of cold never killed anyone.”

“Shepard, either we live on Palaven or this relationship is doomed.”

“Empty threat, you can’t break up with Commander Shepard,” Liara mused.

“Are you suggesting she’d kill me before I could dump her?”

“Yes,” Liara said, seriously.

“I’m sure as hell not going to live on Palaven. It’s all… silver ,” Shepard said with disgust.

“Compared with Earth and it’s lush greenery ,” Garrus waved a dismissive hand.

“That’s why you live on Earth! Back me up here, Vega, Traynor.”

“She’s right,” Traynor said, “Earth is brilliant. I’ve never been to Palaven but it looks a little metal.”

“Tali, weigh in here,” Garrus begged.

Tali hummed thoughtfully before saying, decisively, “Palaven.”

Shepard threw her hands up in disgust as Garrus nodded enthusiastically. Langston was watching all of this with mild interest.

Tali explained, “Earth has too many germs. I’ve seen those historical documentaries, so many diseases.”

Shepard narrowed her eyes at her, “Palaven has diseases too. Diseases you’re more likely to catch!”

“I’ve made up my mind,” she shrugged.

“Oh you two,” Liara said, before Garrus and Shepard could start bickering again. She spoke like a wise mother to her unruly children, “If you could live anywhere, you’d live here, on the Normandy.”

Shepard and Garrus met each other’s eyes. A silent conversation passed between them, before they nodded, decided. It was a deal. Shepard wasn’t sure she’d be able to live anywhere other than her ship after all this time anyway.

“We’d need a pilot,” Shepard said.

“There will be no turian-human hybrids on my ship,” Joker interjected over the intercom.

“ My ship,” Shepard corrected.

“Ourship will not be overrun by hybrid children.”

“No problem there,” Shepard said, honestly. She doubted turian-human children were even possible, but she and Garrus were years off trying to create one anyway. They had a war to win and then a hell of a lot of relaxation to catch up on after that.

Also, they would need to decide if this relationship was fake or real before they thought about having children.

“What would that even look like?” Vega chimed in for the first time. He sounded vaguely horrified as he whispered, “Squishy and sharp.”

“Don’t worry, Vega,” Shepard stood up and patted his head on the way past, “We’ll get a pet varren instead.”

She headed for the War Room and settled in with her slowly disappearing mountain of reports. It wasn’t long before the others began to flit in and out to fill out their own reports. Langston decided to pop by, where Shepard managed to get through another spiel about the soldiers’ needs on the front-line without him interrupting to ask about her relationship. All in all, she achieved quite a bit throughout the morning, even as distracted as she was by last night’s sleeping arrangement.

* * *

After lunch, instead of returning to the War Room, Shepard retired to her cabin to keep working. She may or may not have been avoiding Langston. An hour or so since she’d crept out of the War Room, someone knocked on her cabin door. She told them to come in, not taking her eyes off her screen. She had a feeling she knew who it was.

“So this is where you’re hiding out,” Garrus said, walking in and peering at her terminal screen. He looked bored by the work.

“I’m not hiding,” Shepard said. “I’m saving Langston’s life, because if I have to talk to him one more time today, I will shoot him.”

“Always safety conscious.”

“Why are you here?”

“I, too, am saving Langston’s life.”

“Smart.”

She spun her chair around, abruptly growing bored of her report. She admired Garrus, stood by her aquarium. He was watching one particularly excitable Striped Dartfish surge through the tank. The light from the tank cast him in a silhouette, and Shepard gazed at the breadth of his shoulders, the curve of his crest, the slim swoop of his waist. She stood up, feeling brave, and crossed to him. She stood closer than she needed to and pointed at a group of Koi.

“You could see these if you lived with me on Earth,” she said.

Garrus chuckled and turned to face her. He looked momentarily surprised by their proximity, but didn’t step back. He lifted his hand, it almost faltered before he caught a wayward lock of her hair and tucked it behind her ear.

Earnestly, he said, “Honestly, Shepard, I’d live anywhere with you.”

Her heart stuttered. She moved her hand from the aquarium tank to his shoulder, pretending to brush off invisible dirt. She could smell his soap and the vague scent of oil, he’d been under the shuttle again.

“Here’s fine,” she said, softly.

He leaned down as she lifted onto her tiptoes. They hesitated, a hairs-breadth apart. She could feel his warm breath on her cheek, his hand splayed across her shoulder blade. Her heart yearned for him, her chest tight with apprehension.

The Normandy rocked violently. Shepard fell against Garrus and his hands jerked up to catch her. Her bedside lamp crashed to floor. Shepard pulled away slightly, meeting his wide-eyed gaze. They froze. The water in the fish tank was shifting roughly, forcing the fish to swim to the calmer bottom.

“What was that?” Shepard asked quietly, as though speaking any louder would summon another explosion.

“I want to say it was me rocking your world but-”

Another explosion, this time rougher. Garrus kept hold of Shepard with one hand and braced himself on the tank with the other. The lights in the room shut off, emergency red lighting appeared along the floor, leading to the exit. A second later, the overhead lights clicked back on.

“Joker, what’s happening?”

“We’ve been hit,” Joker said, his voice a rushed panic. “EDI, who the hell is-“

Shepard and Garrus scrambled apart. Joker’s words pushed them into motion. Shepard was glad they hadn’t got as far as removing each other’s clothes. She yanked Garrus towards the lift, following the emergency lighting that hadn’t disappeared. Halfway to the door, she pulled on a set of armour she kept in her cabin. Garrus rummaged through her gun locker, grabbing whatever weapons he could find just in case they didn’t make it to the Shuttle Bay in time.

“What’s happening? Who is it, EDI?” Shepard demanded. She shoved her helmet under her arm.

“Batarian slavers. I believe they’ve figured out who infiltrated their ship.”

“Well, we weren’t exactly subtle.”

Garrus passed her a gun when she was armoured up. She jabbed the button for the lift, but it was caught on the Crew Deck. Another explosion and it was Shepard’s turn to catch Garrus as he stumbled from the movement.

“Joker, get us out of here!”

“I’m trying!” Joker’s frantic voice shot back over the intercom.

“EDI, get me eyes out there, how many ships? What are they doing?”

“It appears they’re going to try to dock us.”

“Shit,” Shepard hissed. “Tell the squad they have five minutes to get to the Shuttle Bay and suit up. Actually, wait! Get Liara to get Langston the hell out of the way!”

“Yes, Commander.”

The lift arrived, at last. Shepard and Garrus stepped in. All thoughts of kissing him left her mind. They were under attack. She was going to find the batarian that had treated her so poorly and put a bullet between his eyes. Then she was going to kill all the others that had dared to attack her ship. The lift moved painfully slowly and Shepard’s heart hammered with adrenalin. She bounced on the balls of her feet, waiting impatiently for the fight to begin. It hadn’t been long since her last fight on the batarian ship, but she was raring to go.

“Well, that killed the mood,” Garrus said, lowly.

“Did it?” Shepard smirked at him. His mandibles flared out into a grin.

She shoved her helmet on as the doors opened onto the Shuttle Bay and marched out. Vega was sorting through the weapons lockers, while Tali and Cortez were moving metal containers, desks, anything they could, across the room to work as cover. A siren began to blare across the ship, minor crew members began filing in the opposite direction as Shepard, realising this was where the battle was taking place. They didn’t want to be anywhere near it.

“Wait,” Vega said, “Were you two just in the Commander’s Quarters together?”

“Not the time, Vega!” Shepard snapped as she marched past him. “Cortez, get the hell out of here. Garrus, help Tali with that last bit of cover.”

Shepard eyed the Shuttle Bay. It wasn’t the best place for a battle, there was so much delicate equipment and recently repaired shuttles, but it didn’t look like she had a choice. The Normandy could out-fly a batarian ship, she didn’t doubt that, but she didn’t want to run away with her tail between her legs.

“Joker, listen to me, I need you to close the distance between us and them.”

“You want them to dock us?” Joker asked, though he didn’t sound as incredulous as he could have. He knew Shepard well after all.

“Let them catch up, and on my word open the Shuttle Bay.”

Joker groaned, “If they damage my ship-”

“ My ship.”

“ Our ship, I’ll kill you myself.”

“Get in line.” Shepard marched to where Vega was handing out weapons to Tali, and Garrus was studying his sniper for any flaws. “Tali, take West. Vega, East. I’ll take point. Garrus, get high, watch my six.”

They all chorused back Yes Commander, and went to their starting positions. Vega ducked behind a desk on the right of the Bay, Tali behind a series of metal containers on the left. Garrus precariously scaled the back of the Shuttle Bay, looking for a high enough position to snipe from. Shepard didn’t make it to her point before the lift doors opened and Langston launched himself at her. She jerked back to avoid his speeding form.

“Get back here!” Liara commanded, sounding furious.

“Liara, I said to get him away from here.”

“I’m sticking with you,” Langston said, looking terrified, clinging to Shepard.

“The hell you are!”

“He’s persistent,” Liara said, catching up to them.

“You have biotics,” Shepard reminded her, pointedly.

“I didn’t want to hurt him.” Though right now it looked like she was regretting that decision.

“I’m not going anywhere. Look, I’m not dumb!” Langston shouted. Shepard was glad he couldn’t see her expression under her helmet. “You’re the one with the highest chance of survival, I’m not leaving your side.”

Joker’s voice chimed over the intercom, “Time’s running out, Commander.”

“Ugh, fine!” Shepard snapped. She grabbed Langston’s shoulders and shoved him to his knees behind cover, “But stay down and shut up. Liara, join Tali. When their ship docks, sneak behind them and cut off their escape route. No one leaves this ship.”

“Yes, Commander.”

With one final murderous look at Langston, Liara jogged to Tali’s side of the ship. Shepard crouched by Langston, her head up to watch the Shuttle Bay doors. She radioed through the intercom, checking everyone was in place, and waiting for four affirmatives back. Once everyone was ready and Shepard’s head had cleared of anything other than the upcoming fight, she called for Joker.

“Now, Joker.”

The doors opened. If the batarians noticed anything odd about the open invitation, it didn’t slow them down. A shuttle launched right at the doors, crashing through the entrance violently. It scraped roughly against the sides, wrenching metal from the floor. Shepard could imagine Joker’s face, it probably looked as furious as hers did. The doors to the shuttle shot open. The first batarian out was taken down by Garrus almost instantly.

“Scoped and dropped,” Garrus said over the comms.

“I hate when you say that,” Vega said.

“Land a shot and you can say something cool too.”

Batarians began to run out of the shuttle before Vega and Garrus could continue bickering. The fire-fight began. Shepard managed to take down several of them, the others did the same, but the shuttle was carrying more batarians than she’d expected. They’d brought a whole army to fight her, she was flattered. She ducked to reload. Her cover exploded from a shotgun blast, Langston squeaked in fear. Shepard grabbed his shoulder and yanked him to the next cover.

The fact that she had to babysit Langston was irritating. More than anything, she wanted to snatch the shotgun off that batarian and run into the melee. She wanted to feel the crunch of bone under her fist. But unfortunately, Langston had taken to clinging to her armoured leg, pinning in her in place like shackles.

More cover exploded. A thunderous boom told Shepard that one of their shuttles had been violently attacked. She looked over the cover, took out more batarians that were gaining on them.

“They’re flanking you, Shepard,” Tali said.

“They know Langston’s here,” Shepard said.

“WHAT!” Langston released her. He leapt to his feet. Shepard reached for him but her hands grabbed nothing but air as Langston sprinted across the battlefield.

“LANGSTON!” Shepard shouted, “Get back here!”

Langston didn’t stop. He didn’t duck behind cover as he ran, he blindly pelted his way across the room. He didn’t seem to be aiming for anywhere other than away. Shepard saw the batarians catch sight of him, saw them signal at his location. She stood up and lurched after him. She weaved between cover, avoiding the gunfire above her head as much as possible. She kept her eyes on Langston, she couldn’t risk losing sight of him. If the batarians got him again, they would kill him. The others seemed to understand her urgency. A batarian that got too close to Langston was sniped quickly. Another was tackled by Chatika.

They were all so busy looking after Langston, no one saw the gun pointed at Shepard. Pain exploded through her torso, knocking her off her feet. She landed with an echoing thud. She lifted her gun and shot at the batarian that had attacked her, but missed. She dragged herself behind cover. Her hands were shaking, her vision narrowed with focus. She looked down at her abdomen. The batarian had been close enough to shoot through her shields and puncture her armour. Blood oozed between the plates of her broken armour.

Shepard looked up into the rafters and spotted a glowing visor. Relief flooded her. For a split second, she’d thought Garrus had been injured and unable to watch her six. He was safe, she was going to be fine. It wasn’t the worst battlefield injury she’d sustained. She pushed herself up into a crouch ignoring the sharp pull of her wound. Adrenalin was saving her from most of the pain, but not all of it, which meant it was a big one.

She pulled up her omnitool and cursed silently. She hadn’t restocked her medigel after saving Langston. They weren’t supposed to be fighting anyone for a while, so she’d let it slip. What an idiot. She buried it all down, she could worry about this when the batarians were dead and her crew was safe.

“Who has eyes on Langston?” she asked, hoping no one else heard the shake in her voice.

“I’ve got him,” Tali said.

Shepard looked over her cover in time to see Tali knock out a batarian that had Langston in a grapple. She spotted Vega converging on Langston’s position. She joined them, all three of them converging on the left of the Shuttle Bay. Liara appeared at the shuttle doors, part of a shuttle control broken in her fist, and rolled behind cover too. The battle was coming to an end. The batarian bodies on the floor outnumbered their alive comrades. A few were still trying to get to Langston, but Shepard knew it was over. She reached Langston as the last few batarians did.

She raised her gun. The batarian nearest her chucked something at her.

“Grenade!” she shouted, diving backwards.

Liara yanked Langston towards her with her biotics. The explosion knocked them all of their feet. Shepard crashed into an upturned desk. Her gunshot wound screamed with pain at the impact. She heard the familiar thud of bodies being dropped, and knew Garrus had picked off the last batarians despite the explosion. She shakily rose to her feet, the others were clambering up too. Langston remained sat on the floor, legs splayed at an odd angle, horror etched on his face. Shepard confirmed the lack of enemies through the comms.

Her crew staggered towards her, looking worse for wear but alive. She seemed to be the only one injured, and she hid it well enough to avoid notice.

“All of you to the Med-Bay,” she ordered when they’d joined her.

There was a sudden explosion of protests. They weren’t injured, they had clean up to do, what if there were still enemies alive? Irritation flared inside Shepard. Nausea was snaking through her at the blood loss and the come-down from her adrenalin. She was furious at herself for not restocking her medigel, for following Langston without watching her surroundings, for letting herself be so stupidly injured. Their whining grated on her. She yanked off her helmet.

“When did I stop being your Commanding Officer!” she shouted, startling them all. Their mouths clamped closed, their whining ceasing instantly. “Get to the Med-Bay now! All of you. That includes you Langston, or so help me I will drag you there by that cheap dye job!”

Langston clambered to his feet ungracefully. He clung to Liara’s arm, and she was too cowed by Shepard’s shouting to say anything. The four of them filed out of the Shuttle Bay sheepishly. Shepard turned her back to them and yanked off her gauntlets, dropping them and her helmet to the floor. She pressed her bare hand to her torso and pulled it away, sticky with blood. She was shaking, but now she wasn’t sure if it was with rage or pain.

Behind her came the distinct sound of two armoured boots landing on the metal flooring. She froze, hand pressed to her wound protectively. Garrus had clearly chosen to ignore her orders. He walked up to her slowly, his footsteps cautious. Her neck prickled at the feeling of him approaching her. She didn’t turn around, didn’t want him to see her injury, though she was sure he’d noticed her getting shot.

“Commander,” he said, so quietly she could barely hear him, “I was watching Langston. I didn’t see the gun on you until…”

He couldn’t say it.

Shepard softened, “That’s the second time you’ve been late, Vakarian.”

She turned to face him at last, a weak smile on her face. He looked nervous, his mandibles twitching. When he met her eyes, he visibly swallowed. Her heart melted at that look, it was so familiar. He was probably in more pain than she was at failing to guard her six.

“I’ll, uh, work on my time management,” he said, unsure whether joking was appropriate.

Shepard laughed but stopped almost instantly as it pulled at her wound. She pressed her hand more firmly to it and Garrus’s eyes narrowed at the pain on her face. She tried to play it off, but Garrus was one of the few people who wouldn’t be fooled by that trick. He held his hand out to her and Shepard eyed it wearily.

“May I?” he asked.

Shepard hesitated for a moment, before removing her hand and placing it, red and sticky, in his. He closed his hand over hers and leaned closer, bringing his face nearer her wound. He made no noise as he observed it, gave no sign of what he thought.

“EDI, send Chakwas to-”

“EDI belay that order,” Shepard interrupted.

“Yes, Commander,” EDI said.

Garrus stood up and gave her a stern look, “Shepard, you need medical attention.”

“So does half the crew. Chakwas has her hands full. This is nothing.”

She pulled her hand free of his. She could tell he wanted to argue. She could also tell he wouldn’t. He swallowed his argument down and made an about-face. He marched away from her, grabbed the nearest metal container that was in-tact, and carried it back to her. He placed it by her side and pointed.

“Sit, armour off.” Shepard thought briefly about denying him, but he sensed the refusal in her and pointed at the box again, “That’s an order, Commander.”

“I’ll write you up for insubordination,” she said, but she sat anyway.

Garrus disappeared, marching back across the Shuttle Bay. Shepard began to remove her upper armour, wincing every time she had to stretch or twist. Her under clothes were stained red, she grimaced at the sight. Garrus reappeared, carrying a small medical kit. He pulled up his own metal container and sat opposite her. He paused only once, tilting his head in question, and she nodded. He got to work. He peeled her undershirt upwards, Shepard sucked in a breath as it stuck to her blood.

She watched his hands, so strong and sharp, wipe the blood delicately off her skin. His touch was feather-light, just firm enough to send a shiver down her spine. Next, he applied medi-gel and the cooling relief made Shepard sigh gratefully.

“Bad shot,” he muttered, now that the wound was clean enough to see better.

“Yeah, it sure feels like it.”

Garrus taped a bandage to her injury, covering it up.

“You’re human. He was aiming for batarian organs. Rookie mistake. He should have aimed here,” Garrus pressed the point of his talon gently to her belly, “Stomach shot. Messy, fatal.”

“Glad to hear you’ll always know where to shoot me.”

“Oh I wouldn’t aim for your stomach,” Garrus said, packing away the medical kit, “I’m a much better shot than that.”

“Then where?”

He looked up and met her eyes. He tapped her forehead, “Right here.”

“Make it quick or I’ll shoot you first.”

They smiled at each other. He trailed his finger across her forehead and down the side of her cheek. It ran along her jaw and then softly chucked her chin.

“You’re all patched up,” he breathed.

“Thank you, doctor.”

He chuckled. Neither of them stood to leave. Shepard noticed for the first time how close they were. The boxes they were sat on were so close their knees were pressing together. Garrus hadn’t leant back after inspecting her wound. Her mind drifted back to the moment before the fight, the blue light of the aquarium on his face. His warm breath on her cheek.

Her eyes darted down to his mouth. He leaned forward. This time there was no hesitation. They kissed. His skin was rough but his kiss was soft. She groaned slightly as she lifted her arms, but the pain in her side didn’t stop her from wrapping her arms around his bulky armour. One of his hands went to her lower back, the other tangled in her hair, pressing her closer.

How long had it been since they last kissed? Months, at least. Perhaps over a year.

But they still fit together so well, like they’d been made for it. His mandibles tickled her cheek, her fingers brushed over his crest. He was fever hot as always. The smell of medi-gel tickled her nose, his mouth-plates smarted against her lips. She sank into the kiss, felt her entire body relax for what might have been the first time in months. The war, the batarians, the Reapers, none of it mattered now. All that mattered was the hum of his vibrating sub-vocals, the sharp points of his talons tangled in her hair, the rugged feel of his scarred mandible under her fingertips.

The lift doors opened. Shepard and Garrus eased apart as the maintenance crew filed in to begin clean up. Garrus helped Shepard to her feet, and she supported herself on his arm. She didn’t really need the support, but she didn’t want to let go of him just yet. They offered their thanks as they passed the crew, Shepard waved their salutes away. They were doing the true dirty work, Shepard had never enjoyed cleaning bodies away.

“I should go check on the others,” Shepard said as they entered the lift.

Garrus nodded, “Try not to kill Langston.” Anger ignited inside her again and Garrus laughed softly. He brushed his palm over her cheek, “If you can’t resist, at least call me over to get some punches in.”

He released her when the doors opened and she headed for the Flight Deck first. The Med-Bay could wait, she wanted to get some of the pain off her face before she faced Chakwas’s scrutiny.

“My ship!” Joker lamented when she walked in.

“ My ship,” Shepard corrected. “It survived anyway. A little scratch won’t hurt her.”

“A little scratch? EDI, did you hear that? A little scratch.”

“I heard Jeff. I am inclined to agree with the Commander, I see no irreparable damage.”

“No one cares about you but me,” Joker whispered, stroking the console of the Normandy. He spun his chair around, “Anyway, how’s the fake relationship going?”

Shepard narrowed her eyes at him. She could still feel Garrus’s hands on her. Was it possible he knew? They hadn’t exactly been hiding. But no, Joker wasn’t always watching the cameras, he was probably just being his usual annoying self.

“Fine.”

“Just fine?” He asked, with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

He knew.

“Spit it out, Joker,” Shepard said, tiredly.

“You know my girlfriend is the ship, right?”

“That’s between you and your therapist.”

He didn’t laugh, “Yeah, when I’m institutionalised for being subjected to that sap-fest in the Shuttle Bay.”

“You saw that.”

“I didn’t.”

“EDI,” Shepard sighed.

EDI spun her chair to face Shepard too, “I did not mean to eavesdrop Commander. I am always observing every room of the ship.”

“So…” Shepard tried to keep the embarrassment out of her face. She thought about the camera in her cabin. “You’ve been watching us this whole week?”

“Guilty conscience?” Joker asked.

“Not watching in the sense you are thinking, Commander,” EDI said, serenely, “I am merely passively observing. However, if I detect a private conversation-”

“Or snogging.”

“Joker!”

“-I can make other processes louder so I do not pay too much attention to that room,” EDI continued. “Jeff has begun to notice when I do this.”

“Can you not… turn off the cameras?” Shepard asked, ignoring the beaming grin on Joker’s face.

“Unfortunately not. What if we were attacked during that time and I was taken unaware?”

“EDI, I doubt-”

“Were we not just attacked by pirates?” Joker asked. “Besides, if you want to make out with your subordinate in a public place, you have to face the consequences.”

Shepard sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose between her fingers. Part of her wished the Normandy had sustained a little more damage to keep Joker occupied.

“Are you going to tell the others?” she asked.

“Now, why would you want to keep it a secret?”

EDI interrupted before Shepard could reply, “Commander, I have another question. I am still not very versed on organic romantic behaviour. Was the kiss between you and Garrus part of your deception?”

Shepard blinked at EDI. She’d voiced the same thought that had been running through Shepard’s mind since she left the lift. Was it fake? No, it couldn’t have been. Could it? Langston wasn’t there, there was no one watching them - besides the cameras. Maybe it had only happened because they’d torn down the barriers between them to pretend to be dating, but that kiss couldn’t have been fake.

Could it?

She was aware that Joker and EDI were both waiting for an answer. They looked equally as interested, though Shepard suspected Joker’s interest was a lot less innocent than EDI’s.

“I should go check on the others,” Shepard said, backing out of the flight deck.

“Coward,” Joker muttered as she left. She stuck her finger up at him.

She needed some painkillers from Chakwas and a lot of space between her and that question.

Chapter Text

For the rest of the afternoon, Garrus tried to distract himself by helping with clean up. As he helped reorder the Shuttle Bay, his mind kept drifting back to the kiss. He moved the boxes he and Shepard had sat on, and he thought of her soft lips. He unloaded his gun and returned it to the locker, and he thought of her nimble fingers on his crest. He argued with Vega about the best shot in the battle, and he thought of her sigh against his mouth. He couldn’t get her out of his head.

Unfortunately, the whole crew was kept so busy, he didn’t see her again except in passing. She was marching around the ship needing to debrief Hackett on what happened, or get painkillers on the down-low from Chakwas, or discuss repairs with the engineering team, or check on various members of the crew. She barely had time for a greeting, but her hand brushed against his every time she passed.

By the time the night cycle rolled around, Garrus made his way to her cabin expecting her to be there already but found it empty. He hesitated in the doorway. It was one thing to be in the cabin with her, but a whole other thing to be in there alone. He turned around and headed for the lift. The doors opened before he pressed the button and Shepard quirked her eyebrow at him.

“Going somewhere?” she asked, sidestepping him and walking into the cabin.

Garrus turned and followed her, “I thought I’d find you in the War Room buried in paperwork.”

Surprisingly, Shepard walked past her desk and sat on the couch. Garrus eyed her and sat down next to her. She had a glow to her face, some colour in her cheeks. She looked like she was up to something. Maybe she’d killed Langston and shoved his body out of the airlock. Garrus had overheard Vega contemplating that plan earlier.

“How’s the injury?” he asked.

She lifted her t-shirt, exposing the square of bandage Garrus had clumsily taped to her skin, “Looks good. I think it’ll hold up.”

“Hold up to what?”

Shepard stood up and crossed the small space between them. She smoothly climbed into Garrus’s lap, legs straddling either side of his. Garrus’s mouth fell open stupidly. He couldn’t get the connections in his brain together enough to close it. He was overwhelmed by the feeling of her in his lap, and she grinned at his gormless expression. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders, fingers splaying under his crest.

“Hold up to a little physical exertion,” she explained.

“Only a little?”

She smirked, and leaned in. Garrus pulled back ever so slightly and she jerked her head back. Her expression fell and she began to loosen her grip on his shoulders.

“Oh. You don’t want to,” she said, surprised, embarrassed.

Garrus seized her hips before she could leave. He dragged her closer, his hips bucking instinctively at the thought of what was coming next.

“Spirits, Shepard, of course I want to.”

She kissed him abruptly, like she couldn’t wait another second for it. It was different to their kiss in the Shuttle Bay, it was hungrier, needier. One of his hands gripped the uninjured side of her waist, the other held onto her thigh. Her skin was slightly cooler than his when his hand inched under her t-shirt. She sighed against him, chest pressing closer, thighs squeezing tighter. She clung to him desperately, like she was afraid someone was going to drag her away any second now. Garrus tightened his grip on her thigh, reminding her she was here, she was his, no one was going to take her away.

Garrus pulled away as best as he could under her firm grip. She didn’t let him get far, and he spoke against her mouth, “I have a request.”

She leaned back reluctantly, arching her eyebrow, “A request?”

“It’s more of a condition.”

She unwrapped her arms from his shoulders and folded them across her chest, “Are you in any position to be making demands?”

“I’m in the perfect position to be making demands.”

“Okay, hit me.”

Garrus looked at the flushed skin of her cheeks, wondered how far that blush travelled. His hand was still under her t-shirt, against the soft, slightly scarred, skin of her waist. His other hand climbed up her thigh. He couldn’t believe he was going to do this, but it was for her own good. He willed away his indecent thoughts, long enough to think clearly.

“We move to the bed,” he said.

Shepard looked over her shoulder at the bed. When she turned back, she was frowning, that familiar wrinkle between her eyebrows. He could tell she wanted to reject this idea outright. But he was going to stand firm, she had to see the determination in his face. He’d waited so long for this reunion, so long to feel her again, but he could wait a little longer. She needed to sleep in her bed again. The nightmares couldn’t keep her away forever.

“I can’t do that,” she said.

Garrus moved his hands to her hips and firmly slid her along his legs, away from him. It felt like a physical pain to do so, the bitter cold air surging between them, but it was necessary. She ended up perched on his knees, surprised at the space he’d created between them.

“Then I can’t do this ,” he said.

It was her turn to hold her mouth open stupidly. She caught herself, “Are you withholding sex from me, Vakarian? Because I assure you, I can outlast you.”

“I don’t think you can. I have it on good authority that you were salivating over me the other day.”

He was rewarded with a deeper colour in her cheeks as she blushed. He reached up and brushed the back of his fingers down her warm face.

“Do you deny it?”

“I wasn’t salivating.”

Garrus grinned at her smugly, “See? I can outlast you.”

She scoffed, “I was on house arrest, Garrus. Six months alone with nothing but memories, I can make do.”

“Fine,” Garrus shrugged. “Make do.”

She shrugged too. Neither of them moved. Shepard remained perched on his knees, Garrus’s hand remained on her hip. They were at a stalemate. Anyone else would give in and let her do what she wanted, but not Garrus. He would give up his own pleasure for her to get one good night’s sleep. Hell, he’d take another rocket to the face if it meant she’d sleep comfortably for eight uninterrupted hours. She looked again over her shoulder at the bed, and when she turned back she looked almost frightened. The nightmares must be bad if they had scared her. Garrus softened, he could feel his will relenting.

“Shepard,” he said softly, taking her hand in his, “I’ll stay awake all night. Any sign of a nightmare and I’ll wake you up.”

A small smile appeared on her lips, “You’ll watch my six.”

“I won’t let you get hit this time.”

She sucked in a deep breath and Garrus was momentarily distracted by her chest. He dragged his eyes back up to hers. She placed her hands on either side of his face and leaned forward, bringing her forehead to his. He wrapped his arms around her in a hug. He breathed in the scent of her, so wholly Shepard. He would be content to stay here, pressed close to her forever. Nothing more, nothing less. Just her.

She broke the silence first, “Fine, you win. But if I have a nightmare, you have to help me burn the bed, no matter what EDI says about open fires on ships.”

“Deal.”

She pulled away from him and stood up. His body ached at her loss, he stood up and followed her to the bed. Before she could lie down, he caught her and pulled her close. He kissed her lovingly, pushing her backwards until they both fell to the bed together. She hooked her legs up around his hip spur and he pulled her t-shirt over her head. He made a mental reminder to be careful of her injury. Her fingers found the clasps of his clothes and expertly began to unhook them. He nibbled his way down her throat, mandibles ghosting against her. He’d missed the taste of her skin.

He had to pull away to remove his clothes and she took this time to remove her own. Garrus stopped when she was undressed, eyes soaking in the sight of her naked on the bed. She had a few fresh scars, but other than that she hadn’t changed one bit. She looked glorious. Garrus was as spiritual as any other turian, but he was suddenly overcome by the need to get on his knees in devotion.

Her eyes trailed over him, her teeth raked across her lower lip. There was an overwhelming look of longing her eyes. He didn’t feel judged by her gaze, he felt loved, adored, as idolised as she was by him. A growl started up in his subvocals without him fully intending it. They locked eyes.

They came back together, weaving limbs around one another. He would never get used to the unfamiliarity of her body, the foreign topography of her. He had missed her so much. He couldn’t believe they were back together like this. His hand trailed down her body, lingering over her breasts and feeling her heartbeat behind her ribs, the smooth curve of her hips, the inside of her soft thighs. She let out a soft moan when his finger made contact. Her head arched back and he pressed his mouth to her exposed throat. His finger swirled on her. Her breathing hitched, her hips jerked up to meet him. He dipped a finger inside and she gasped out a sigh. She was warm and wet and made for him. He was so glad he’d filed his talons after their Shuttle Bay kiss.

She seized his face as he picked up the pace, dragging their mouths together. Her tongue darted against his, her hot breath on his mouth. Her hand wrapped around the length of him and his hips jerked automatically. She matched her rhythm to his, bringing in her other hand to take all of him.

Garrus pulled his fingers out of her, Shepard released him, and he pushed his legs between her thighs. He met her eyes as he eased into her and she moaned his name. He almost lost it all right there, the anticipation of this reunion had built up inside him for far too long. He pulled out, eased back in, taking it slowly, filling her completely. Spirits, he’d forgotten how perfect she felt. The sound of her moans was going to stick with him for the rest of his life. He couldn’t help the growl that escaped when she tightened her legs around him, pulling him deeper. Her fingernails scraped his back, seeking the softer parts between his hide plates. He pushed in a little harder, hitching her up the bed.

She sighed his name, he breathed hers out like a prayer. They relished in the feel of each other after so long apart. He found her hand, entwining their fingers together. Shepard kissed her way along his scarred mandible, Garrus turned to catch her mouth but she darted out of reach. She kissed her way down his throat. Her teeth scraped over his hide, and he thrust into her harder.

Abruptly, she flipped them, rolling on top of Garrus. She braced her hands on his chest and rocked her hips faster. He couldn’t take his eyes off her. Her breasts bounced with the movement of her hips, her skin glowed, she threw her head back as she crested. He seized her hips, dragging her down deeper with each thrust. He sat up slightly to get more purchase as he jerked his hips up to meet her. Her internal muscles clamped down on him. She cried out his name, not bothered by the volume, no one would hear them here. Garrus unravelled too, letting her ride out her orgasm as he buried deep inside her warmth.

She stayed on him for a moment after they’d finished. She was absolutely stunning as she smiled at him. Garrus had known for a long time that he would do anything for her, and that smile confirmed his decision. Anything and everything she wanted, he would get it for her. He reached up and brushed her hair behind her ear.

She climbed off him and they shifted to lie side-by-side. Garrus rolled towards her at the same time she rolled towards him. He enveloped her in his arms and she pressed her forehead to his. His heart was whole and full to bursting. With a yawn, she stretched and Garrus took this moment to memorise the sight of her body. He pulled the covers over them, already anticipating the chill in the air when they both cooled down.

“Don’t tell me you’re tired already,” Garrus breathed.

She laughed, her fingers trailing along his mandible, “Give me a break, I got shot today.”

“Excuses.”

“I missed you,” she said candidly.

He knew she didn’t mean she’d missed him, because he’d been on the ship for the last few months. She meant she missed him intimately. She missed this as much as he did.

“I missed you too.”

Her eyes drifted closed, a soft smile on her face. He committed the sight to memory and then let his own eyes drift closed. The ambient ship sounds mixed with Shepard’s breathing. He felt the moment she drifted off, her hand uncurling loosely on his face, her breathing evening out, a relaxed expression settling on her face. He pressed his mouth to her forehead.

“EDI, you up?” he asked quietly, careful not to wake Shepard.

“I do not sleep,” she intoned.

“I need you to leave another message for Shepard when she wakes up.”

Chapter Text

Shepard woke up slowly, rousing out of her dream tenderly. She hadn’t had a nightmare, she knew that much, but whatever her dream had been escaped her now. She didn’t mind, the fever-hot arms around her were better than any dream. Garrus was pressed against her back, his hot breath on her neck, his keel bumped against the space between her shoulder blades. She shifted carefully, trying not to wake him, and turned onto her other side. It took her a long time. With every shift, she paused to see if Garrus had woken up. Her caution worked out, and his eyes were still closed, his mouth parted slightly, when she finally faced him. She gazed at his face, her chest swelled with love. She wanted to stay here forever, to wrap this blanket around them like a shield from the rest of the world. She could convince EDI to bring them food, the rest of the squad could fight the war without her, it would be fine.

“Commander, you are awake,” EDI said.

“Shh!” Shepard said quickly but Garrus had already woken up. He opened his eyes slowly. When he took in the sight of her, his mandibles twitched happily.

“Garrus has asked me to relay another message,” EDI said.

Shepard arched an eyebrow at him, “You know, you don’t need to leave a message if you’re here with me.”

“EDI play the message,” Garrus said, voice heavy with sleep.

EDI obliged, “Garrus would like me to tell you good morning.”

“You’re a sap,” Shepard laughed. “Good morning.”

He pulled her closer and kissed her sleepily. She relaxed into his arms and nuzzled her face into his neck, breathing in the scent of him. He brushed his fingers through her hair idly. They settled in, staying tucked under the blankets, untouchable. Shepard drew random patterns on his hide, tracing the bumps and valleys of his plates.

“Any nightmares?” he asked.

“None.”

He hummed, “So, you admit you were wrong?”

“I don’t know, I still think we need to run a few more tests. Maybe try out the couch.”

“Mordin would have been proud of your scientific endeavours.”

She kissed her way along his mandible. He turned and caught her mouth with his. They kissed unhurriedly.

“Commander, we have a problem,” EDI’s voice interrupted. Shepard pulled away from Garrus to sigh and EDI took that as a cue to continue, “Tali is on the verge of killing Mr. Langston.”

“Let her,” Shepard said, finding Garrus’s mouth again.

“I would usually follow your orders, Commander, but I’m afraid in this case, I cannot. If I were to let Tali continue along her current path, it’s likely she would punch a hole in the ship. I do not think you would be happy with this result.”

Shepard groaned, burrowing further against Garrus as though she could escape her responsibilities. He laughed against her, “No rest for the saviour of the galaxy.”

“Commander, I really must insist-”

“Okay, okay!” Shepard grumbled. She forced herself away from Garrus, already thinking up a few interesting punishments for Tali and Langston for interrupting her quiet time. She got out of bed and stretched. Garrus gave an appreciative growl at the sight and she shot him a stern look, “Don’t think you’re staying in there without me, Vakarian.”

He stretched his arms behind his head, making no secret of his staring, “You can handle this without me.”

“Come on, there’s no Shepard without Vakarian,” she yanked the blankets off him, exposing him to the cold air. It was her turn to lasciviously gaze at his naked body.

He sighed wearily but got out of bed anyway. The two of them got dressed and cleaned up for the day. EDI spurred Shepard on with a warning about losing a vital part of the ship. She was forced to leave Garrus when he took longer to get ready, and headed down to Tali and Langston on the Crew Deck alone.

She found them in the lounge, the sound of glass exploding from behind the closed door was her first clue.

“Joker, if I go through this door, am I going to get glassed?” Shepard asked, pausing just far enough away to avoid triggering the automatic door.

“Nah, she’s throwing it the other way.”

Shepard trusted him and opened the door. Tali threw another glass towards Langston, who ducked behind the bar in the nick of time. Tali had all the unclean glasses from last night at her disposal though, so Langston wasn’t going to have much opportunity to leave the room. He popped his head up at the sound of the doors, hope bursting through the terror on his face at the sight of Shepard.

“Shepard! Save me!”

“Apologise you bosh’tet and save yourself!” Tali shouted, seizing another glass from the table.

Shepard caught her arm before she could launch it. Tali struggled, a series of curses flying from her mouth. The translators picked up about half of them and Shepard made a mental note to ask about the others later, she was always looking to add to her swearing arsenal. For now, she wrenched the glass out of Tali’s hand as gently as she could manage while Tali struggled so violently.

“Tali, Tali,” Shepard said, over the sound of her enraged swearing, “You’re going to destroy my ship. Joker will kill you.”

“Damn right, I will,” Joker interjected hotly.

“I don’t care!” Tali shrieked, “As long as this bosh’tet is dead, I will die peacefully.”

“Damn Tali, what did he do?”

“I merely told her my thoughts on the quarian’s current self-isolation,” Langston said. Shepard admired his bravery at least, she wasn’t sure she’d have faced Tali’s glass-filled hand that unashamedly.

With a sudden burst of energy, Tali ripped free of Shepard and seized another glass. Shepard decided against tackling Tali and ducked to avoid being hit by Tali’s backswing as she launched the glass. Langston ducked in time, letting the glass soar over his head and smash against the wall. There was a wet stain on the wall from all the leftover alcohol being thrown at it.

“He said we should give up hiding behind our suits. Survival of the fittest,” Tali hissed. She picked up another glass and threw it, “ Whoever dies isn’t worth it anyway. ”

Shepard glared in the direction of Langston’s hiding spot, “Langston, if we were subject to survival of the fittest, I assure you, you wouldn’t be here right now.”

Whatever Langston said in response was cut off by Tali’s shouts of agreement. Shepard took hold of Tali’s arms and pulled her towards the exit. She couldn’t save Langston from his own stupidity, but she could save Tali from a stint in prison. As much as Shepard would like to see him knocked down a peg, she didn’t think a glass to the face would be fun for anyone, least of all Chakwas who would have to nurse Langston back to health, again. She pulled Tali, kicking and shouting, from the room and into the main Crew Deck. Shepard’s desperate drag slowed at the sight of the rest of her squad, gathered around in a loose semi-circle. They all stopped talking when she approached, the fight went out of Tali.

“What’s going on?” Shepard asked, suspiciously. She released Tali, who muttered furiously under her breath and moved to Garrus.

“We want him gone,” Liara said. The others nodded their heads vigorously.

Shepard arched an eyebrow, “Is this a demand?”

“Lola, he’s gotta go. I can’t put up with him anymore,” Vega said, “Look, I almost shot him instead of the batarians yesterday.”

“He’s insulted every last one of us,” Traynor said, “Including you, multiple times.”

“You should hear the way he speaks of you,” Liara said with disgust. She glanced between Shepard and Garrus, “Actually, probably best neither of you know. I don’t want to clean up all that blood.”

“Everyone’s agreed on this?” Shepard asked, folding her arms across her chest. She was impressed really. Langston had managed to piss them all off so completely. “Cortez? Vakarian? Joker? EDI?”

“I… could do without him,” Cortez said, making Vega punch him in the arm. He steeled himself, “He’s awful, Commander.”

“Hate him,” Joker said over the intercom.

“Likewise,” Garrus agreed.

EDI followed, “I can put up with a lot from organics-”

“You are dating Joker,” Shepard interjected.

“-but Mr. Langston has been intolerable. I contemplated venting all of the air out of the ship to get rid of him.” Shepard stared up at the camera. The rest of the crew looked alarmed. EDI said, “That was a joke.”

Shepard cleared her throat, relieved that the advanced AI in charge of keeping them all alive wasn’t planning on killing them all for a release.

“Okay, Joker, what’s the plan? Do we have a mass relay nearby? Is it even worth it at this point? We’re, what, three days from arrival?”

“It’s definitely worth it,” Tali cried, “Shepard, I will kill him.”

There was an assent of agreement, even a few mentions of half-formed plans from the rest of the crew. Shepard took the very unsubtle hint. If she didn’t fix this problem, they would find a way to do it themselves. As much as Shepard disliked Langston, she didn’t want him murdered via mob. He could withstand some potential premature ageing from the mass relay, he couldn’t withstand an attack from her crew.

She also didn’t want to be without a crew for this war and prison communication was so slow.

“There’s a relay not far from here. I could get us to the Citadel before the night cycle,” Joker said.

There was a cheer from the crew. She waved her hand to settle them down, “Fine, take that way. I’ll go break the news.”

Shepard left her crew to have a small celebration and found Langston still cowering behind the bar. She marched around to him, seized his arm, and dragged him to his feet. He looked startled by the rough treatment, and then grateful when he saw it was just her. At the stern look on her face, his grateful smile fell. She pushed him into an armchair and stood opposite him.

“We’re going through a mass relay.”

“No! But-”

“But nothing,” Shepard cut him off swiftly. “You’ve managed to piss off every single one of my crew, and that’s a great feat because this lot puts up with Joker on a daily basis.”

“But Shepard-”

“No, Langston,” Shepard cut him off again, hands on her hips, “If you want to live to see tomorrow, I suggest you keep your mouth shut until we dock on the Citadel. I’ll walk you safely off the ship and then we’ll never see each other again, got it?”

“The money-”

“Don’t lie to me, you weren’t going to donate. I’ll remember that next time you get captured by slavers, or abducted by the Reapers, or whatever the hell else can go wrong in this god damn galaxy. Don’t expect my help,” Shepard walked to the door. At the last moment she turned back to him, “Especially against my own crew. If they want to kill you, I might have a hard time stopping them.”

She left him gaping dumbly at her and headed to the Flight Deck to confirm the flight path with Joker. It felt like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders.

Chapter Text

Garrus was in a great mood. He’d had the best night of his life with Shepard last night. He still felt like he was wrapped up warm in the blankets on her bed, her body cradled inside his arms. Not only that, but Langston was finally leaving. There would be no more awkward questions, no more forced discussions about human-turian relationships, no more having to explain why turians were how they were, or justify the militarisation of his species. He didn’t even mind that he was stuck fixing the same shuttle he’d fixed just days ago thanks to the batarians. He didn’t mind, because he was so completely happy.

The only thing that could dull his mood, was Langston approaching as he removed a dent from the shuttle door. Garrus kept his back to him, trying to look as busy as possible and unable to chat, but he could feel Langston’s eyes on him. He remained silent, and Garrus busied himself preparing some of the worse scratches to get fixed.

“Why you?” Langston asked after a very long moment.

“Hm?” Garrus tried to sound distracted in the hopes of getting rid of him.

“Why you? I’ve looked you up on the extranet, nothing overly interesting.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“How did you end up with her? You’re just a beat cop off the Citadel.”

“Luck, I suppose,” Garrus didn’t look at Langston. He deflected the question, trying to stop it from taking root in his mind. He’d asked himself that question a few times on lonely nights. He didn’t need this right now. “Right time, right place.”

“She’s better than you, you know?”

“Oh, I know.”

“Fuck!” Langston snapped, forcing Garrus to turn and face him. “Even the bloody quarian is more deserving of her. But Shepard chose you. Why? Looks like she’s not as smart as everyone thinks she is.”

Garrus growled, “Whatever your problem is-”

“My problem is you,” Langston jabbed a finger at him, “Some stupid cop from the Citadel thinks he’s worthy of her? The first human Spectre? The saviour of the galaxy? God damn Commander Shepard, and you think you deserve her?”

Garrus stared at the spitting fury on Langston’s face. He tried to block out the words, but weren’t they the same words he’d thought himself a thousand times? He watched her on the battlefield and he knew she was leagues above him. He watched her tactfully deal with stupid politicians, and end conflicts with a few well-timed words, and bring hope back to people’s faces, and he knew she was so much better than him, so much better than all of them.

There was a small voice in his head that sounded a lot like her telling him to stop being dumb, that Shepard chose him, that she missed him. But the bigger voice, the one that took root all these months when Shepard made no hint of romantic attraction to him, was telling him Langston was right.

What could Garrus offer Shepard? He had always thought he earned his place by her side, but really what had he done that the others hadn’t?

Fought the Reapers - everyone and their mother was doing that these days.

Infiltrated a Collector Base - Tali had done that, too.

Been with her since the beginning - Joker had been there longer.

He’d done nothing of note, nothing worth her attention. He couldn’t even really remember why she’d recruited him. He had just happened to be the C-Sec officer in charge of looking into Saren, that’s it. Pure, dumb luck. All the brave and incredible things he’d done in his life had been done with her. Without her, he was nothing. There was a Shepard without Vakarian, but there was no Vakarian without Shepard. He wasn’t worthy.

He had let her get shot yesterday. He pictured it again, the image seared into his mind forever. The crackle of static over the comms as she got hit. Her falling behind cover, her visor turned in his direction. The look of betrayal she must have had behind her helmet. He had let her down. He was supposed to be watching her six, and he had let her get shot. The blood on her skin was from him. The wince as he’d cleaned it up had been caused by his lack of attention. He was lucky it hadn’t been worse.

He wasn’t worthy.

Langston stared at his face, watched all of this play out in Garrus’s head. He walked towards him, bringing himself into punching distance. But Garrus wouldn’t punch him, he was right.

“It’s not too late to let her go. She deserves so much more than you,” Langston said, not unkindly.

He patted Garrus’s shoulder once and left. Garrus watched him go. Langston was good at saying the wrong thing, but he’d hit the nail on the head here. Garrus knew he was right. Shepard did deserve more. She may like him, she may want him, but it wasn’t good for her. It was like sleeping at her desk, a short term solution. Eventually she would have to find someone better for her, someone worthy of being by her side. Someone who had achieved great things like she had.

He thought of their jokes the other day about turian-human hybrids, and how she’d immediately rejected the idea. She would have to find a human, someone who could give her a child if she wanted it. Someone she could marry without scorn.

How many turians did he know that had married humans? How many humans did he know that had married turians?

It wasn’t a common match. They were incompatible. They couldn’t even share a coffee.

His heart felt heavy, his face couldn’t muster even a neutral expression because his frown was so deep. He turned back to the broken shuttle. He knew what he had to do. It might kill him, but he’d made a promise to himself long ago to keep her safe. He would give up his own happiness to support hers. Like sleeping in her bed, it was what she needed, not what she wanted.

* * *

She came to see him shortly after Joker’s announcement that they were 30 minutes from the Citadel. She looked happy, relieved of the weight of Langston and her crew’s upset. She leaned her hip against the shuttle and grinned at him. He didn’t return the smile. He couldn’t.

“What’s up?” she asked, concern etching onto her face.

Garrus forced himself to look into her beautiful eyes, “We should end this.”

“End… the shuttle repair?” she asked, confused.

“No, us.” Garrus thought he might choke on the words. “This lie. It’s done now.”

“I’m sorry?”

“We’re docking at the Citadel in half an hour, Langston will be gone. We can stop now, stop pretending to be dating.”

He could see her trying to figure out what was happening. At first, a small smile played on her lips, trying to understand the joke Garrus was playing. When she didn’t find it in his tone or his expression, that familiar furrow of worry appeared between her eyebrows. She was looking for a way to fix this problem he’d presented to her. But there was no problem to fix, she was realising, Garrus was the problem.

She deserves so much more than you.

“Last night was fun, a bit of stress relief,” Garrus said. This was for her own good. It would kill him but she deserved better. “But it’s done now. It wasn’t real.”

“It was real to me,” she whispered, voice so quiet he almost lost it under the hum of the ship.

Her words crushed his heart. Every part of him ached to cross the gap between them, to take her in his arms. He wanted to breathe an apology against her lips, to rub her back and tell her he was kidding. He wanted to tell her he loved her, he’d never loved anyone like he loved her. Nobody compared to her, nobody would ever be good enough to him now.

She deserves so much more than you.

Langston was right. She was the best he was ever going to have, but she could have so much more.

He turned away from her.

“Not to me. I got carried away in the moment,” he said, stiffly.

He could feel her eyes on him, demanding he face her. He looked. She was visibly hurt, more than when she’d gotten shot. Her lips were parted in a silent question, the furrow prominent between her eyebrows. Her eyes were wide and, Spirits, were they wet? Had he made her cry? No. He couldn’t have. He would never do that.

Like yesterday, she was trying to hold it together, to keep the pain from showing, but it was leaking out. He knew her tells, he could see the shake in her hands when she folded her arms across her chest. He might as well have plunged his talons into her bullet-wound.

Make it quick or I’ll shoot you first, she’d joked yesterday.

Well, he’d done it. He’d made it quick. But he hadn’t shot her in the head like he’d promised, he’d shot her in the heart. He wanted to take it all back, to stuff the words back into his mouth like reverse-vomit. But he couldn’t. He’d done this for her. She would understand one day, and he would feel better when she was happy with someone else - happier than she ever could have been with him.

“I should go,” she said, softly, a quiver in her voice.

Garrus didn’t respond. He let her go.

Chapter Text

Shepard’s head was reeling. She could hardly keep a straight thought in her mind as she went through the motions of preparing to dock. It was like there were two of her. One part of her was still coming down from the joys of last night. Another part of her was fatally wounded from Garrus’s words. Had he really meant all that? Was everything that had happened between them fake? It wasn’t to her. She wasn’t sure when exactly it had become real for her, but she knew it had been long before last night. Hell, when she spouted Garrus’s name off to Langston on that first day, it had probably been real to her then. She just hadn’t noticed.

She played the conversation over in her mind as she walked through the ship, ignoring anyone who tried to get her attention. Several times she breezed past someone who had stopped to talk to her without even noticing. She felt like she was missing something. There was a stupid bit of hope in her that this was a joke, or a badly thought out prank, or some minor problem she needed to solve. But maybe the truth was, she couldn’t solve this. Garrus didn’t want her. She had been fooled by her own lie to Langston.

How pathetic.

She couldn’t even really be mad at Garrus! She hadn’t told him she wanted more. When she’d invited him to her bed - or her couch - she hadn’t stated outright that this was more than stress relief for her. She’d stupidly thought the implication would be clear enough. She’d thought they were on the same page, but all along they’d been reading two different books.

She made her way to the Flight Deck without really noticing. Joker turned his chair around expectantly, but Shepard didn’t say anything. She stared out of the Normandy’s front window, picturing Garrus turning away from her, unable to look at her and her pathetic sadness. His disgust at her tears.

“Uh, Commander?” Joker asked, jerking her out of her thoughts.

“Erm, ETA?” she asked.

Joker glanced at EDI, “We’ve started the descent. I said it over the comms a minute ago.”

“Oh.”

“Is everything okay, Commander? You seem… distressed,” EDI observed.

“I’m fine.” Shepard forced a normal expression on her face but it didn’t have the desired effect. EDI and Joker shared another look.

“Is it Langston? There’s probably still time for EDI to vent him into space if you want,” Joker said. He grinned, “I’m only half joking.”

“No, it’s…” Shepard thought about not saying anything. She could shrug it off and say she was worried about the war. Put it down to stress. But something about Joker and EDI’s expressions made her confess. She tried to keep her voice light, “Actually, I think I just got dumped.”

“By Garrus?”

“No by my other fake-boyfriend.”

“So… your fake relationship is over?” Joker asked, arching an eyebrow when he couldn’t see the problem.

Shepard leaned against the railing and sighed. She shouldn’t have even brought it up, especially not to Joker. Tali might have offered some insight but last time Shepard had seen her, she was still seething from her conversation with Langston. Maybe Liara could have helped. Really, no one should have been told because this was between her and Garrus. Their fake-real relationship was over.

“It wasn’t so fake towards the end,” Shepard admitted.

Joker pumped his fist into the air, “I knew it! I knew you liked him for real! I’m gonna make so much money off this!”

“Are you done?”

“No! You deny and deny and deny it, but I knew it. So obvious. God, you could run Fleet and Flotilla off the air with your lovestruck glances at each other.”

“Well, it was just my lovestruck glances, I suppose. Garrus isn’t into it.”

“Are you stupid?” Joker demanded.

Shepard blinked at him in surprise, “What?”

“Of course he’s into it. God, he’s been pining over you since we picked him up on Menae. It was sickening really. I almost bought him a Fornax subscription just to distract him.”

“I think you’re misinterpreting things. He dumped me about half an hour ago.”

Joker rolled his eyes, “Ugh, let’s not do this, Shepard.”

“Do what?”

“The whole he doesn’t love me thing. Let’s skip to the part where you’re happy, and I can win the bet about you two getting together before we dock on the Citadel.”

Shepard wanted to laugh and say something about not betting on her love life, but she couldn’t muster the lightness. Joker was so sure of Garrus’s feelings, but he hadn’t seen the sharpness on Garrus’s face, he hadn’t heard the finality of his words. He hadn’t seen Garrus callously turn away from her as she confessed her own feelings. None of this had been real to him, not even last night. He was a good actor, an incredibly good actor. He had fooled them all.

“He doesn’t love me,” Shepard said, quietly, more to herself than to Joker. She had to tell herself that so she could forget about the longing glances and the delicate way he’d looked after her injury. She had to forget about his kisses and his moans and his hand on her thigh. “It was all fake.”

Joker sighed and covered his face with his hands. His voice was muffled when he cried, “I almost won two hundred credits.”

EDI chimed in, “Commander, I do not think you are correct.”

“I am, EDI.”

EDI opened her mouth to say something else but a small persistent beeping from the console distracted her. Joker heaved himself out of his crumpled position and turned back to the console.

“We’ll discuss this on the Citadel,” Joker promised, as the two of them prepared to dock. He muttered, “I’m going to need a lot more alcohol to deal with this.”

Shepard left them. She wasn’t going onto the Citadel. She was waving goodbye to Langston from the ship and then locking herself in while her crew went onto a short shore leave. She didn’t want to bring them all down with her moping. And she didn’t want to hear any jokes about her and Garrus’s fake relationship, it would cut a little too close to the bone.

As the ship descended, Shepard found Langston waiting impatiently in the lounge. She joined him in silence as they waited to dock. He wasn’t happy about their conventional means of travel but Shepard wasn’t in the mood to discuss it. He must have sensed the taut stress inside Shepard, because he didn’t utter a single word. They sat and waited, each staring off into the distance and ignoring each other. When the ship docked, Joker sent a message out over the intercom, and Shepard heard people begin to file past the lounge on their way off the ship.

Once the majority of people had left and Shepard would be free of any awkward jokes or questions, she stood up. Langston had clearly been waiting for her cue because he stood up too. They walked to the airlock.

“This is your stop,” she said, gesturing one arm out to the Citadel.

“I have to thank you. If it weren’t for you, I’d still be on that hellish ship with the batarians.”

“You’re welcome.”

“And I do apologise to your crew. They aren’t the most forgiving of people, but I know I irritated them.”

Shepard was surprised by this sudden apology, “Oh! Well, thanks. I’ll pass it on.”

Langston suddenly caught her hand and clasped it in his. His hands were dry and cold. “How can I ever thank you for your kindness?”

Shepard tried to pull her hand away politely, but Langston only held onto it firmer. He lunged at her, mouth puckered. She jerked her head away. Her fist connected with his nose. There was a dirty crunch of bone beneath her knuckle and Langston collapsed onto the floor. He wailed in pain, pressing his hands to his face. Shepard couldn’t help the rush of vindication that welled over her.

“You broke my nose!” he cried.

“Seriously?” she demanded, shaking out her hand, “You tried to kiss me, again! I warned you.”

“My nose is broken! You broke my nose!”

“Get up!” Shepard yanked him to his feet by his collar. She wiped dust off his clothes and grabbed a rag from a console nearby. He pressed it eagerly to the blood pouring down his face. She rolled her eyes, “You’re fine. Oh, and thank you for your very generous donation to the Alliance war effort.”

Langston glared at her but faltered at the look on her face. He nodded, rag clasped to his face. His voice was nasally when he said, “You’re welcome.”

“If I see you again-“

“You won’t,” Langston interrupted hastily.

“Get off my ship.”

Langston did as he was told, evidently not willing to push her patience any further. Shepard flexed her fingers. Breaking his nose had offered some relief, at least. She swiped at the spatters of his blood on the floor. She would have to tell the crew later that she had punched him, and whoever had bet on her was owed some credits. She would be upset that she was so predictable if she wasn’t already so upset about everything else.

She returned to the lounge alone and poured herself two fingers of whiskey. She was feeling very sorry for herself and glad to have the ship alone. She didn’t want the crew to see her so pathetically heartbroken over a supposedly fake relationship. They all gossiped too much as it was. She drank her drink and tried to drown out the memories of Garrus with whiskey. She wasn’t going to be able to sleep tonight, especially not in her bed.

Hell, she might not even be able to sleep in her cabin. Perhaps she could find a relatively comfy desk in the War Room.

Way too late, she’d realised she loved him. Maybe if she had told him that from the start, he never would have let this fake relationship start. She wouldn’t have gotten her hopes up. He wouldn’t have had to crush her. She leaned her elbow onto the bar, her chin in her hand.

Another drink, another bit of their night together erased. Warmth from the whiskey flooded through her but did nothing to chase away her cold mood.

She was onto her third glass, when EDI chimed over the intercom, “Commander, you are still on the ship.”

“You got me. Are you here too?”

“In a way, I am always on the ship. Though currently my physical form is in Purgatory with Jeff.”

“Nice,” Shepard said, distractedly.

“You appear…” There was a small pause while EDI observed her through the cameras, “Sad.”

“You’re getting good at recognising facial expressions.”

Shepard poured herself another drink, wondering how pathetic it would be to get drunk alone and realising she was already halfway there.

“Commander, do you remember the conversation we had approximately 27 hours ago?”

“Uh…” Shepard had had too many drinks to remember that, “Remind me.”

“It was about me listening in on private conversations.”

“Oh yeah, that one. What about it?”

“Well, I do not believe I was entirely honest. However, Jeff tells me a lie by omission is not as terrible as an outright lie.”

Shepard stared blankly up at the ceiling. “EDI, I’ve had too much to drink to understand what you’re on about.”

There was a long pause, so long that Shepard assumed EDI had found something more entertaining in Purgatory than watching Shepard mope. Shepard downed her drink, wincing slightly at the burn of the alcohol. There was no way she could work on reports in this state. She wasn’t sure she’d even be able to find the War Room safely. She’d forgotten just how strong this whiskey was, especially when no one was there to judge how much she was pouring. The shattered glass from Tali’s attack had been cleaned up, but the wet stain was still on the wall. Shepard weighed her glass in her hand, maybe chucking it at the wall would offer the same relief she’d gotten from punching Langston’s nose.

EDI came back, startling Shepard, “I witnessed a private conversation between Mr. Langston and Garrus which took place approximately three hours ago.”

“Okay, why are you telling me this?”

“I have a copy of that recording. I think it could offer some insight.”

“You recorded it?”

“Everything I see is automatically recorded. I manually delete most of it.”

Shepard thought again of that camera in her room. She hoped EDI had deleted that recording already. Although, a smaller part of her, kind of wanted a copy. But she knew that was ridiculous.

“Hit me,” Shepard said, throwing back another whiskey.

There was a click and a scatter of static over the intercom. Shepard played with her empty glass, spinning it on its edge dangerously. Langston’s voice came clearly into the room and Shepard jumped. She spun her barstool around, but realised the sound was coming from the intercom.

“How did you end up with her? You’re just a beat cop off the Citadel.”

“Luck, I suppose. Right time, right place,” Garrus’s voice replied. The sound made her heart ache. Her own body was betraying her, aching for him even though she knew she couldn’t have him.

“She’s better than you, you know?”

“Oh, I know.”

“Fuck!” Langston snapped so forcefully that Shepard was taken aback. “Even the bloody quarian is more deserving of her. But still Shepard chose you. Why? Looks like she’s not as smart as everyone thinks she is.”

“Whatever your problem is-”

“My problem is you! Some stupid cop from the Citadel thinks he’s worthy of her? The first human Spectre? The saviour of the galaxy? God damn Commander Shepard, and you think you deserve her?”

Shepard glowered at the intercom, as though she could send that fury right to Langston himself. Breaking his nose hadn’t been enough. She should break his hand. Because she realised now what had happened. She knew what Garrus was like, that inherent protective urge inside him. She thought she had told him long ago she didn’t need protecting but he’d never stopped. He was always trying to keep her safe, to bring her coffee, to get her to sleep in her own bed, to look after her wounds.

“It’s not too late to let her go. She deserves so much more than you,” Langston said, like he truly cared about either of them, like he wasn’t just a manipulative little snot that deserved more than a broken nose.

“That big stupid…” Shepard trailed off.

She had been going to say turian, but she realised that human could fit there too. Because they’d both been stupid. They’d both spent the past few days convincing the crew that they had no romantic feelings towards each other. They spent their time denying their feelings and they’d been so convincing they’d even convinced themselves. How many times had Shepard argued with the truth when it was presented to her? How many times had she forcefully pushed that thought out of her mind? Denied the chance to explore it before it even started?

She’d lied so well and so often, she’d lied to herself.

She’d let Langston sneak in and manipulate them, and drive a wedge between them. She’d left Garrus wide open for that attack, she hadn’t been there to watch his six. She had let him believe that he wasn’t worthy of her love, that he wasn’t who she wanted regardless of what the rest of the universe had to offer. She had denied her feelings and let Garrus believe her lies.

God, she was an idiot.

“I owe Joker 200 credits,” she muttered to herself.

It was time to be brave. It was time to tell that stupid turian that this stupid human was in love with him.

“EDI,” Shepard said, determinedly, “Where the hell is Garrus?”

“He is in Purgatory with us. He also looks sad.”

“Not for long!” Shepard growled.

She stood up and marched off the ship. She felt like she was walking into a battlefield, but she was more scared than that. She didn’t pour herself another drink, she was drunk enough, though she would have liked a little more liquid courage. This was worse than fighting the Reapers, worse than invading a Collector Base, worse than facing her own nightmares. She waved for a cab, her legs wobbled as she climbed in.

A tiny part of her was still convinced he didn’t love her, that he had faked the whole thing, but she had to believe he hadn’t. She had to remember the reverent way he looked at her naked body, the way he said her name in every situation, the slightly crooked way he smiled at her due to his scarred mandible.

He loved her and she loved him. He was just as stupid as she was.

The music thumped violently in Purgatory, spurring on her racing heartbeat. She weaved through the crowds, pulsing and dancing. The lights flashed on and off, swept the dance floor and blinded her. She didn’t know where she was heading until she spotted it - the DJ booth, flashing alternating blue and purple lights. She pushed more purposefully through the crowd, searching the faces for familiarity as she went. She had to hope Garrus was still here to hear this because she was sure she’d only be able to do this once.

She reached the asari DJ and climbed up to the booth. She stood just in front of it, on a small platform. Security began to flock to her and she waved to the DJ.

“I’m Commander Shepard,” she shouted over the thumping base.

The DJ waved security away, not bothering to confirm Shepard’s story. She leaned forward, cocking her head to the side and presenting her ear to Shepard, apparently expecting a song request.

“I need to make an announcement. It’s… important,” Shepard said. She wasn’t exactly lying. As Joker told EDI, a lie by omission wasn’t as bad. She was going to announce something important but Commander Shepard announcing something important was usually regarding the war and not a matter of love.

The DJ seemed intrigued. She turned the music down slightly, letting Shepard hear her own thoughts again, and passed over a microphone.

Shepard felt the shake of fear now she had the microphone in hand. A few people in the crowd had turned to the DJ when the music had been lowered, and now they were looking at her expectantly. Shepard couldn’t see Garrus amongst them. God she hoped he was here. She sucked in a deep breath. She could do this, she’d done a million scarier things than this.

“Hello people of Purgatory, may I have the floor please?”

* * *

Garrus turned to the familiar voice at once. Everyone at their table turned to face the DJ booth, drinks paused halfway up to lips, conversation stopped mid-word. Shepard was stood in front of the DJ booth, purple and blue light flashing behind her. She was clutching a microphone and staring into the crowd.

“Uh, what’s happening?” Joker asked.

“Some of you may recognise me,” Shepard said over the thumping base, “but in case you’re unsure, I’m Commander Shepard.”

There was a thunderous round of cheers at that. If people hadn’t been watching before, they sure were now. People elbowed their way through the dance-floor to get closer to her. A small chant of Shepard, Shepard, Shepard, went up somewhere in the back of the club. Garrus shared a confused look with Liara.

“Yes, yes, thank you,” Shepard said, waving her hand to quiet down the chanting, “I’m here to make an important announcement.”

Impossibly, Purgatory went quiet. Or as quiet as it ever could be. The music was brought down, the lights were dimmed. A spotlight appeared and found Shepard and she winced slightly at that. The crew around the table all leaned closer to her as one, eager to hear what was going on. Garrus noted she didn’t look sad anymore, perhaps she had already moved on from their momentary tryst. He told himself it was for the best.

“This isn’t an announcement about the Reapers-” There was a quick chorus of boos and Shepard laughed. Her melodic laugh resounding through the microphone had a slight quiver to it. “Yeah, I agree. Actually,” she cleared her throat, shifted from foot-to-foot. She looked nervous. “This is an announcement about love.”

As the crowd oohed and awed at these words, Garrus felt the other members of the Normandy crew turn to look at him. Joker was grinning, EDI looked rather smug for a robot, and Vega looked downright confused. Garrus couldn’t meet any of their interested looks. This couldn’t possibly be a good announcement. Mere hours ago Garrus had broken up with Shepard so she could be with someone better than him. Was she about to publicly shame him for it? Looking at the adoring crowd, he knew this would lead to a lynch mob.

Shepard seemed to steel herself, “I, Commander Shepard, first human Spectre, and hopeful saviour of the galaxy, am deeply in love with that turian right there.”

Shepard’s finger found him in the club, pointing at him with all the accuracy of a sniper. Tali and Traynor squealed. Heat flooded up Garrus’s neck and he rolled his shoulder awkwardly. He should have accepted the shots Vega offered before. He needed a whole lot more alcohol in his system to face the curious glances coming from seemingly every living being in Purgatory.

“His name is Garrus Vakarian. He’s ex C-Sec, some of you might have been handcuffed by him. To which I say, lucky you, ” Shepard grinned.

There were a few scattered woops and Garrus laughed partly out of embarrassment and partly out of the pure joy that was slowly leaching into his veins. He couldn’t take his eyes off her - he never could - and he couldn’t believe that she was saying all of this. He wondered momentarily if he had died on his way to the club and this was all some afterlife dream.

“We should stop this,” Liara said.

Garrus waved his hand, “Uh, give her a few more minutes.”

“Whether you know him from C-Sec or as a member of my squad, or if you’ve never even heard of him before now, know this,” Shepard was suddenly extremely serious, “I am wholly, completely in love with him. Nobody else makes me laugh like he does. Nobody else makes me feel as safe as he does. There is nobody else in this galaxy that I would trust to point a high-powered sniper rifle at my head and not slip on the trigger.”

It was a similar speech to the one she’d given to Langston days ago, but it rang truer through the microphone. Shepard wasn’t done.

“And the reason I’m telling you all this is because today, he told me he didn’t love me.”

“YOU WHAT?” Tali shrieked as the crowd’s aws turned into boos.

A few dozen people turned to shoot him violent glares, including a few from the Normandy crew. Garrus suddenly remembered what it was like to be Archangel, pinned down by three different merc groups all hoping to kill him. He sank a little lower in his chair, blood humming in his ears. He wasn’t prepared to fight his way out of this club, especially since Shepard might not come to his rescue this time. Tali’s hand was clamped tightly around her glass and he prepared to duck.

“Hang on, hang on,” Shepard said, waving her hand to calm down the booing, “Before you string him up by his crest, let me finish.”

“This better be good,” Tali hissed.

“He told me he didn’t love me, because he didn’t think he was good enough for me,” Shepard said, her soft voice reverberating through the room. The booing crowd returned to their aws and their admiring noises, a few people clutched their hands to their hearts with emotion. Garrus felt scratchy heat climb up his neck in embarrassment. He preferred their anger. Shepard leaned into the mic, and said as casually as if she was sat right next to him, “See, I figured it out, Vakarian. I am Commander Shepard, after all.”

A huff of a laugh escaped his mouth. He didn’t know how she’d discovered the truth, other than the fact that she was who she was. Any problem presented to her could be solved, including his determination to ruin his own life to keep her happy. Tali gave an approving nod and Garrus felt a little relieved at not being forced to take down Chatika in this crowded bar.

“So really I'm telling you this so that no one ever doubts it again. Garrus Vakarian is good for me. He is more than good for me, he’s my best friend. He is the reason I am still here. He is the reason I can still smile, still fight, still breathe. Nobody will ever, ever, compare to him in my eyes. I love him and god, I hope I got this right. I hope you love me too.”

Garrus stood up and Tali gave him a firm shove. He weaved his way through the crowd effortlessly as they parted to let him by. A few people patted him on his back and congratulated him, but he ignored them, he only had eyes for her.

There was a mix of aws and joyful laughter from the crowd. The DJ spun something romantic and sappy, the lights turned rose pink, and Garrus couldn’t stop grinning. He made it to the DJ booth as Shepard returned the microphone. He helped her down, his hands holding her waist, her hands coming to his shoulders for support.

“You’re absolutely mad,” he said, trying to stay audible above the music blasting out of the speakers right next to them.

“Was that clear enough for you, Vakarian?”

“Yeah, I… Langston said-”

“I broke his nose,” Shepard interrupted hastily. “I should have broken his hands but he was already off the ship by the time I figured out what he’d done.”

“You’re going to be on every news cycle tomorrow.” Garrus pulled her back through the crowd towards the crew table, still keeping his eyes on her. She gazed back at him. They only managed to make it back to the table without falling because everyone else got out of their way.

“I don’t care. I only ever care what you think.”

“Shepard, that was insane!” Liara shouted as soon as they reached the table.

“You really are a Lola,” Vega said, impressed.

“I threw up in my mouth a little,” Joker said.

Shepard didn’t respond to any of them. She was still gazing at Garrus, still poring over every inch of his face. He brought his hand to her cheek, brushed the pad of his thumb over her cheekbone. She pressed her hand firmly over his.

“So I’m right? You love me?” she asked, a nervous shine to her eyes.

Garrus huffed out a laugh, “Shepard, are you ever wrong?”

He leaned down and pressed his forehead to hers.

“Ohhh, so that’s how turians kiss,” Vega said.

Garrus and Shepard burst into laughter. Still laughing, Garrus kissed her tenderly. Her arms went around his shoulders, his went around her waist. He dipped her back and she laughed against his mouth as the crowd cheered.

“No, wait, is that how turians kiss?” Vega asked.

Chapter Text

“Have you met my girlfriend? First human Spectre, saviour of the galaxy, you know,” Garrus said for what might have been the hundredth time that night.

Shepard pointed at herself and nodded to agree that yes, that’s me, his girlfriend, the one who just declared her love very publicly. The asari group that Garrus was speaking to all shared squeals of delight. There were some drunken congratulations, some slurred lamentations that their partners would never give such romantic speeches, some admiring compliments about how romantic Shepard was. Then, finally, the asari group bought a round and they toasted to love. Shepard and Garrus threw back their drinks with ease.

How many did this make now? Shepard had lost count. She’d lost count about forty drinks ago. The club was spinning, the music seemed somewhat dulled, and Garrus’s heavy hand on her waist was practically obscene. It was surprisingly easy to get free drinks after giving her big romantic speech. Maybe she should do that more often, if her nerves held up. It had been hard enough doing it once, she wasn’t sure she could face the wide-eyed looks of the crowd as she poured her heart out again, even if it meant she could drink the club dry without spending a credit.

No, once was enough. Garrus knew where he stood now - firmly by her side at all times - and she didn’t need to do any more rom-com level speeches for a while.

“How many more times are you going to do that?” Shepard asked, her words running together on her tongue, when the asari group moved on.

Garrus’s mandibles fluttered happily, “Oh, at least ten more times.”

Shepard grinned at him. They discarded their empty glasses on a table nearby and Garrus took a seat. Shepard went to take the seat next to him, but he caught her hips and dragged her down into his lap. She let out a delighted giggle. Any other night and she might be against such public displays of affection, but the whole club knew practically everything about their love life right now, so why bother being shy? She wrapped one arm over his shoulder to balance herself and idly trailed her other hand over his crest. He kept one hand firm on her waist, and the other came to land on her knee.

They gazed adoringly into each other’s eyes. They were doing that a lot tonight, Joker had audibly gagged the first couple of times. Garrus’s hand on her knee trailed higher on her thigh. He dipped his face to her neck, his hot breath on her sensitive skin. His tongue flicked out and she gasped, her hand tightened on his crest. Warmth flooded her body. His hand inched higher. Definitely not appropriate. Shepard didn't tell him to stop. 

“You know,” she said, softly, as Garrus’s teeth nipped her throat, “I’m feeling a little tense.”

Garrus pulled away from her neck, a brow plate arched, “You think you might need a little… stress relief?”

In answer, Shepard kissed him. She pushed her tongue into his mouth, no longer caring about prying eyes or journalists that might film this for tomorrow’s news vids. She’d lost any chance of privacy when she’d climbed the DJ booth, now it no longer mattered. The hum of a growl in Garrus's chest was more of a vibration through her body than a sound. She felt a growing bulge beneath her thigh, between Garrus’s legs. A thrill ran down her spine.

“Shepard,” Garrus said, when she moved to kiss the length of his scarred mandible. It twitched under her lips, “Let’s make sure we avoid any more miscommunication. What are you implying, exactly?”

Shepard smiled. He knew exactly what she was suggesting. She eased her mouth closer to his ear and breathed, “Meet me in the bathroom in five minutes. Don’t be late.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

She gave him one final hungry kiss, and eased out of his lap. He reluctantly let her go, his talons clinging to her at the last second. She didn’t look back at him as she headed for the bathroom, but she made sure to put an extra swing into her hips as she left.

There was another human woman in the bathroom when Shepard arrived, so she took this moment to run some cold water over her wrists. Her face was flushed, her eyes slightly bleary from the booze, her hair a mussed up mess from Garrus’s eager talons. She couldn’t help the smile at her reflection. The woman glanced over, recognition brightening her face.

“You’re Commander Shepard! Nice speech,” the woman said.

“Thanks.”

“So, a turian, huh? I’ve never been with one.”

“You should give it a try. They’ve got… stamina,” Shepard said.

The two of them burst into drunken laughter. The woman finished reapplying a coat of lipstick and then left with a playful wink at Shepard. Shepard leaned against the sink and glanced at her omni-tool. It had been three and a half minutes. She wiped a little smudge of mascara from beneath her eye. Her heartbeat fluttered in her chest with excitement. She’d never had public sex before, but there was no night better for it.

Her omni-tool had just rolled over the fifth minute when the door opened and Garrus walked in. He grinned, his own omni-tool showing how precise his timing had been. Shepard folded her arms across her chest, cocked one hip to the side.

“Of course, you’re on time for this,” she said, trying to sound stern but only ending up laughing.

“The only thing that could stop me meeting you in this bathroom is the Reapers themselves.” He tilted his head to the side, his eyes raked the length of her body indecently, “And even they would only slow me down.”

He closed the distance between them and they met in a kiss that was all tongue and teeth and desperation. She pushed him back into a stall, his hands lifted her t-shirt so he could palm her breasts. She flicked the lock on the stall door, his finger brushed over her erect nipple, dragging a quick moan from her mouth. There was no need for foreplay. The whole night had been foreplay. The hot looks, the wandering hands, the public making out. They were both ready and willing to go.

She shoved him away playfully and he got to work on the clasps of his trousers. She eased her own trousers down, wishing she’d gotten changed into a dress before coming here. It would have made it so much easier. Her trousers pooled around her ankles, her underwear followed. She turned to face the stall door, Garrus pushed against her back, his erection sliding between her thighs, growing slick from her desire.

“Remind me again how much you love me,” Garrus whispered, his breath tickling her ear.

“About as much as you love me,” she whispered, pushing her hips back against him.

His erection slid delightfully underneath her. Her body was wound tight, a ball of excitement forming in her chest. She was craving him, desperate to feel him. If he kept her waiting any longer, she might get on her knees and show him just how desperate she was. She pressed her palms flat against the stall door, pushed her hips back against him, a stuttered growl broke in his chest. He nudged her legs further apart with his knee, his keel bumped her back. One of his hands clamped down on her hip, talons creating pinpricks of pleasure.

He used his other hand to guide himself inside her. They breathed out twin moans when he slipped inside. He was barely halfway in when Shepard’s fingers clawed on the door for a better grip, her heart pounding behind her ribs. He dragged her back to meet him. She tilted her head to the side, exposing her neck and he immediately flicked his tongue against her. He pushed all the way, filling her completely. He pulled out slightly, barely more than an inch and pushed back into her. She moaned, not caring if anyone else decided to use this bathroom. Nothing else mattered. 

His free hand curved around her, finger finding her clit with sniper-precision. She arched her back to give him deeper access. His hand on her hip dragged her back into him, harder, faster.

“God, Garrus…” she couldn’t put her thoughts into words. There were no words good enough to describe it. 

His growling hum told her he felt the same way. The door rattled as they fucked, Shepard’s slick hands slid down its surface. She thrust back against him, muscles tightening as he pushed her closer to the edge with his cock and his hand and his teeth. He nipped at her neck. His movements became more frantic, his growling more frenzied. He seized her hips with both hands, talons sinking into her skin and dragged her back against him, fully and completely. He buried deep inside her, her muscles twitched and tightened around him. Her eyes shut as they shuddered together. 

They remained still for an extended moment, neither of them able to move much as they came down from their rabid need. The only sound in the bathroom was their panting breaths and the distant sound of music through the closed bathroom door.

Garrus eased out of her, Shepard held onto the door to avoid falling at the sudden loss of his support. She turned in the small space and dragged his face to hers. She kissed him lazily, spent. They redressed slowly, Garrus helped Shepard brush her hair down into something more presentable. A quick flick of cold water over her face and then they left the bathroom as though nothing had happened.

Hand-in-hand they found their crew gathered around a table that was so full of empty glasses it looked about ready to collapse. There was only one seat left, Garrus took it. Before Shepard could even utter the option of looking for another chair, he dragged her into his lap. Tali passed over two drinks and they drank greedily, replenishing lost fluids.

“Where were you two?” Cortez asked.

“We were, uh,” Garrus stammered, placing his glass down, “Having a serious discussion about, ah…”

“Crime stats on the Citadel,” Shepard said confidently.

Vega narrowed his eyes at her, “Wait a minute… I know that look! You two had-“

“I broke Langston’s nose!” Shepard blurted.

The crew immediately broke into shouts and exclamations.  The noise was so sudden and so loud that people nearby jumped in surprise. Shepard pressed one hand over her ear as they all shouted. Several drinks were split, Joker burst into uncontrollable laughter, Traynor and Vega high-fived. 

Tali stood up, fists held aloft and shouted, “AT LAST! Keelah, I bet that felt so good.”

“Who had credits on Shepard?” Liara asked, looking flustered, as she pulled up the betting poll on her omni-tool.

As the crew chaotically shouted about who had money on Shepard, and how they were this close to winning more credits, and how Langston deserved much worse, Garrus ran a hand down her arm.

“Nicely done,” he murmured.

“Tell me everything,” Tali said, seizing Shepard’s hand and staring intently at the knuckles as though she could see Langston’s pain on there, “Did he cry? I bet he cried.”