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Here if you need me (Part 3)
----- I -----

Garrus absently flicked through the data on the screen not taking in any of the information displayed as his eyes kept drifting toward the lift. He still couldn’t believe Shepard had agreed to Samara’s plan. The very notion of her facing down a powerful biotic unarmed and alone was bad enough, but an Ardat-Yakshi? Even before she got to the ‘face down’ part she had to draw the proven psychotic killer out first. This wasn’t simply a bad idea – it beggared belief.

He wasn’t left with fractious thoughts for long as only a short while later Shepard emerged looking very… different. It was a pathetic term to use he knew, but his range of complimentary descriptions for humanoid females simply wasn’t extensive enough to cover the situation.

Her shoulder length red hair was glossy and tussled, a far cry from the scrunched up, ‘that’ll do’ approach he was already familiar with, and her jet black outfit hugged her lean mammalian curves. Curves it had been impossible to tell she possessed till that moment.

Garrus was certainly no connoisseur of human beauty – though he’d always considered Shepard easy on the eye for her species - but if he were to hazard a guess from the surrounding awed silence from her crew as she ventured into the CIC, she fit the part of ‘live bait’ perfectly. A fact that troubled him more than was reasonable.

“Commander, there’s a new message for you,” informed Yeoman Chambers helpfully.

“Thanks Kelly,” Shepard replied, making her way toward her private terminal.

Garrus met her there, waiting quietly to convey his concerns about the mission when he realised Kelly was watching him. She smiled when he looked up, completely unabashed at having been caught staring at him. Her confidence threw him and he found himself smiling back. Only to be polite, he told himself, she was always very personable – if a little strange. With a faint giggle she looked down at her terminal again.

Spirits, what was that about? Garrus wondered then realised Shepard was looking up at him expectantly. Clearly having asked something he hadn’t heard.

“Garrus?” she asked again, “You alright?” Not missing a trick she looked toward Kelly - who now appeared to be very busy - before looking up at him again her expression one of, ‘what did I miss?’

For a moment he floundered, then shrugged, then changed tack all together. “So, I assume this is what you meant when you said it was time to paint on your war face?” he asked, taking in her general appearance with one sweeping gesture.

“Do I detect a note of disapproval?” Shepard asked, moving by him to check some survey data on a different screen.

“No, you detect several notes of concern,” Garrus replied, following behind.

“Is that a joke?” she asked, seemingly amused whether it was a jokey reference to turian flang or not.

Garrus rolled his eyes, but before he could respond further a crewman appeared with a brusque, ‘Commander?’ drawing Shepard’s attention as she was handed a data pad.

The young ensign stood rigidly straight, trying to keep his eyes focused on some indiscriminate point over Garrus’s shoulder. At first Garrus thought he was to blame for his apparent discomfort till it turned out he was simply trying not to stare at his Commanding Officer. A battle he lost after no more than 15 seconds. Lucky for him, her attention remained diverted whilst he openly ogled.

On realising Garrus’s scrutiny, however, the crewman snapped his attention to the wall, and didn’t even look at Shepard when she handed back the data pad with an equally brusque, ‘Carry on.’

With a shake of the head Garrus chuckled to himself; falling into step with Shepard as she continued through the CIC. “Best not make this dress code standard, Shepard,” he said, taking in the continued passing interest that she seemed to be blind to, or rather didn’t choose to acknowledge. “I’m not sure any of the crew could concentrate well enough to function adequately.”

“Don’t make fun of me Garrus,” she replied sternly.

“Who’s making fun?” he asked, pausing briefly so she could walk up the steps to the bridge first.

“Looking good Commander,” Joker praised with a grin, having spun round in his chair to greet them.

“And don’t you start either,” Shepard reprimanded, pointing a finger at him threateningly before turning toward the airlock.

“What did I say?” Joker called after her, looking up at Garrus for an explanation.

Garrus lifted his palms in the universal - if dismissive - sign for ‘don’t ask me’ and rounded the corner too.

“See what I mean?” he asked, stopping beside Shepard as she adjusted some settings on the airlock release.

She glanced up at him in response, her brows drawn together in a scowl at first, yet slowly, under his prolonged gaze - which she stubbornly refused to meet - her features smoothed into a small smile.

His mandibles flexed as he smiled in return, finding himself quite taken by her ‘different’ visage once again. Her scars were all but vanished behind whatever minimal make up she was wearing – not to mention her positive mental attitude stimulating her already astonishing ability to regenerate. Cerberus certainly hadn’t skimped on the upgrades in that department. Something Garrus had already been very thankful for in the midst of their more bloody encounters.

“I don’t like this, Shepard,” he began earnestly. “You shouldn’t be going in there alone.”

“I’m not overly fond of the situation either,” she replied, turning toward the exit.

Garrus reached out and caught hold of her elbow easing her back to face him. “Then why are you going?” he asked.

“Because I believe Samara when she says it’s the only way.” Her eyes met his briefly before training on his fingers still wrapped firmly round her arm. He let go instantly. “Keep an eye on things while I’m gone will you? Don’t let Jack and Miranda kill each other.”

“I’ll sell tickets first,” he pronounced.

Shepard laughed. “Well, make sure Joker gets a front row seat in that instance.”

“Just watch your back,” he added seriously.

“Count on it, till I’ve got you watching it again anyways. I’ll be back soon,” she promised and punched in the airlock release.

Air gusted through the rapidly opening door forcing them both to shield their eyes from the swirling dust blowing off Omega’s docking port. Shepard marched out with all the same confidence she bore in full armour, but it was overshadowed by the normality of her appearance, and though Garrus knew first-hand to the contrary, he just couldn’t get over how strangely vulnerable she looked in civvies.

Just before the airlock closed behind her, Shepard looked back, offering him an encouraging smile and a little wave that could only be described as cute.

The instant the airlock hammered shut he realised he’d waved back in a similar fashion.

What the hell?

Feeling ridiculous, he dropped his hand and turned to make his way back through the CIC only to notice Joker watching his retreat.

“What?” Garrus asked irritably.

“Nothing,” Joker replied with a shrug. It was clearly something.

“You know, for a starship pilot you spend an awful lot of time not looking where you’re going.”

“And for a turian badass you spend an awful lot of time mooning after the Commander - Just putting it out there,” Joker added, spinning his chair back round to face the helm.

Description
body div#devskin0 hr { }

Here if you need me (Part 3)
----- I -----

Garrus absently flicked through the data on the screen not taking in any of the information displayed as his eyes kept drifting toward the lift. He still couldn’t believe Shepard had agreed to Samara’s plan. The very notion of her facing down a powerful biotic unarmed and alone was bad enough, but an Ardat-Yakshi? Even before she got to the ‘face down’ part she had to draw the proven psychotic killer out first. This wasn’t simply a bad idea – it beggared belief.

He wasn’t left with fractious thoughts for long as only a short while later Shepard emerged looking very… different. It was a pathetic term to use he knew, but his range of complimentary descriptions for humanoid females simply wasn’t extensive enough to cover the situation.

Her shoulder length red hair was glossy and tussled, a far cry from the scrunched up, ‘that’ll do’ approach he was already familiar with, and her jet black outfit hugged her lean mammalian curves. Curves it had been impossible to tell she possessed till that moment.

Garrus was certainly no connoisseur of human beauty – though he’d always considered Shepard easy on the eye for her species - but if he were to hazard a guess from the surrounding awed silence from her crew as she ventured into the CIC, she fit the part of ‘live bait’ perfectly. A fact that troubled him more than was reasonable.

“Commander, there’s a new message for you,” informed Yeoman Chambers helpfully.

“Thanks Kelly,” Shepard replied, making her way toward her private terminal.

Garrus met her there, waiting quietly to convey his concerns about the mission when he realised Kelly was watching him. She smiled when he looked up, completely unabashed at having been caught staring at him. Her confidence threw him and he found himself smiling back. Only to be polite, he told himself, she was always very personable – if a little strange. With a faint giggle she looked down at her terminal again.

Spirits, what was that about? Garrus wondered then realised Shepard was looking up at him expectantly. Clearly having asked something he hadn’t heard.

“Garrus?” she asked again, “You alright?” Not missing a trick she looked toward Kelly - who now appeared to be very busy - before looking up at him again her expression one of, ‘what did I miss?’

For a moment he floundered, then shrugged, then changed tack all together. “So, I assume this is what you meant when you said it was time to paint on your war face?” he asked, taking in her general appearance with one sweeping gesture.

“Do I detect a note of disapproval?” Shepard asked, moving by him to check some survey data on a different screen.

“No, you detect several notes of concern,” Garrus replied, following behind.

“Is that a joke?” she asked, seemingly amused whether it was a jokey reference to turian flang or not.

Garrus rolled his eyes, but before he could respond further a crewman appeared with a brusque, ‘Commander?’ drawing Shepard’s attention as she was handed a data pad.

The young ensign stood rigidly straight, trying to keep his eyes focused on some indiscriminate point over Garrus’s shoulder. At first Garrus thought he was to blame for his apparent discomfort till it turned out he was simply trying not to stare at his Commanding Officer. A battle he lost after no more than 15 seconds. Lucky for him, her attention remained diverted whilst he openly ogled.

On realising Garrus’s scrutiny, however, the crewman snapped his attention to the wall, and didn’t even look at Shepard when she handed back the data pad with an equally brusque, ‘Carry on.’

With a shake of the head Garrus chuckled to himself; falling into step with Shepard as she continued through the CIC. “Best not make this dress code standard, Shepard,” he said, taking in the continued passing interest that she seemed to be blind to, or rather didn’t choose to acknowledge. “I’m not sure any of the crew could concentrate well enough to function adequately.”

“Don’t make fun of me Garrus,” she replied sternly.

“Who’s making fun?” he asked, pausing briefly so she could walk up the steps to the bridge first.

“Looking good Commander,” Joker praised with a grin, having spun round in his chair to greet them.

“And don’t you start either,” Shepard reprimanded, pointing a finger at him threateningly before turning toward the airlock.

“What did I say?” Joker called after her, looking up at Garrus for an explanation.

Garrus lifted his palms in the universal - if dismissive - sign for ‘don’t ask me’ and rounded the corner too.

“See what I mean?” he asked, stopping beside Shepard as she adjusted some settings on the airlock release.

She glanced up at him in response, her brows drawn together in a scowl at first, yet slowly, under his prolonged gaze - which she stubbornly refused to meet - her features smoothed into a small smile.

His mandibles flexed as he smiled in return, finding himself quite taken by her ‘different’ visage once again. Her scars were all but vanished behind whatever minimal make up she was wearing – not to mention her positive mental attitude stimulating her already astonishing ability to regenerate. Cerberus certainly hadn’t skimped on the upgrades in that department. Something Garrus had already been very thankful for in the midst of their more bloody encounters.

“I don’t like this, Shepard,” he began earnestly. “You shouldn’t be going in there alone.”

“I’m not overly fond of the situation either,” she replied, turning toward the exit.

Garrus reached out and caught hold of her elbow easing her back to face him. “Then why are you going?” he asked.

“Because I believe Samara when she says it’s the only way.” Her eyes met his briefly before training on his fingers still wrapped firmly round her arm. He let go instantly. “Keep an eye on things while I’m gone will you? Don’t let Jack and Miranda kill each other.”

“I’ll sell tickets first,” he pronounced.

Shepard laughed. “Well, make sure Joker gets a front row seat in that instance.”

“Just watch your back,” he added seriously.

“Count on it, till I’ve got you watching it again anyways. I’ll be back soon,” she promised and punched in the airlock release.

Air gusted through the rapidly opening door forcing them both to shield their eyes from the swirling dust blowing off Omega’s docking port. Shepard marched out with all the same confidence she bore in full armour, but it was overshadowed by the normality of her appearance, and though Garrus knew first-hand to the contrary, he just couldn’t get over how strangely vulnerable she looked in civvies.

Just before the airlock closed behind her, Shepard looked back, offering him an encouraging smile and a little wave that could only be described as cute.

The instant the airlock hammered shut he realised he’d waved back in a similar fashion.

What the hell?

Feeling ridiculous, he dropped his hand and turned to make his way back through the CIC only to notice Joker watching his retreat.

“What?” Garrus asked irritably.

“Nothing,” Joker replied with a shrug. It was clearly something.

“You know, for a starship pilot you spend an awful lot of time not looking where you’re going.”

“And for a turian badass you spend an awful lot of time mooning after the Commander - Just putting it out there,” Joker added, spinning his chair back round to face the helm.