My old Shakarian fic was feeling a bit outdated, a bit juvenile, especially considering I never actually bothered to title it… So after playing the trilogy again earlier this year, I felt the urge to write a new one. I don’t feel it quite gets across how fascinating turians are, how the whole idea of ‘alien’ is alluring (Mass Effect does not really do a great job of expressing alien cultures in a culturally alien way, though I will grant that’s not the point of a swashbuckling space adventure), but it certainly feels a bit more in-character than the old one to me.

It doesn’t have every bit of detail in, as it’s only really supposed to replace the whole “reach and flexibility” conversation and still leave space for the “interspecies awkwardness thing” conversations that come after.

 

Reason to Live

Shepard took a moment to sigh to herself before she reached out and tapped on the Normandy’s main battery door. It had been an intense day, and she still wasn’t sure if she’d given him enough time to sort through it all.

The door opened, and Garrus’s voice drawled out. “Shepard. Come in.”

“Hey,” she said, looking around for him. He was down the corridor at the side of the gun, just standing there, oddly, like she’d caught him in motion. “What’s up?”

He made an awkward turian shrug. “Not much. Been doing some thinking.” He chuffed self-deprecatingly. “As if I haven’t been doing enough of that the last few months.”

“Should I go…?” she asked, one hand on the doorframe.

“No,” Garrus said quickly, and paused, as if wondering if it was too quickly. “No, I’d… I don’t mind you here.”

“Sure.” She crossed over to one of the crates in the corner, letting the door hiss closed, and sat on it. Putting her elbows on her knees, she looked at him with a wry smile. “So. …How d’you think the Thanix is going to stand up to Collector armour?”

He leaned against the gun casing and crossed his digitigrade ankles. He gave the casing a pat with one three-fingered hand, then folded both hands in front of him. “The question you should be asking, Shepard, is ‘How is Collector armour going to stand up to the Thanix?’ This baby ought to punch through their shell easily. And if one shot doesn’t work, bam! Hit ’em with another one five seconds later. Just hope we hit something good with a target that big.”

“Tell me again how it works,” she said, and was gratified to see his mandibles flare in a little grin.

He grabbed a datapad and gestured for her to scoot over on the crate so he could sit down and show her, scrolling past the boring technical parts to show how the superheated alloy would get blasted out by the mass effect, to show the testing result data, to explain how exactly the turians had reverse-engineered this potent weapon out of Sovereign’s main gun.

“I still can’t believe you managed to get your hands on this,” she said, enjoying seeing him ramble about something he liked, enjoying the closeness of his big warm armoured frame and the rumbling drawl of his voice. “This must be the most classified tech the Hierarchy has right now.”

He shrugged, fidgeting with the datapad. “All that platinum you picked up opened a few doors. I’m not thrilled that the schematics made it into the black market, but we do what we gotta do.”

She hadn’t said the right thing, but she shrugged back. “It’ll be worth it. I hope we get to use it.”

That got him, a bright flaring grin that made her grin back. They were going to be all right.

Even as she realized that and let herself relax a little, he got up, tossing the datapad aside, and began to pace – no, to prowl, his gangly alien form slightly hunched, his bulky armour making him appear even more predatory. Was this what he had been doing before she came in? “You didn’t just come down here to ask about the new cannon. I can guess what you really want to talk about.”

She grimaced behind his back, tensing up again. “Only if you want to. I know it didn’t go the way you wanted it to.”

“I hope you’re not planning to apologize, Shepard,” he said, turning back toward her and tilting his head in such a bird-like way.

“No,” she said. She’d done what she thought was right, even if it meant overriding her friend’s wishes. Maybe leaning a bit hard into his trust – though to be fair, she’d put all her trust in him while she blocked his shot. She wanted to apologize for that, for churning up his feelings further, but she wouldn’t apologize for preventing her friend from letting his bitterness use him.

He sighed, long and flanging. “Good. Because you’re right. There was nothing left of him. Maybe I should have done it anyway, as a mercy kill, for who he used to be. Maybe I should have talked to him myself. Maybe, maybe, maybe.”

“Not a fan of ‘maybe’, personally,” she said. “Or ‘what if’. Got a few of those I’m avoiding.”

“Heh. I can imagine.” Garrus coughed awkwardly and paced some more. “In any case, it doesn’t matter what he does now. He has to live with it. Or not-live with it. And so do I. But…” He fell silent abruptly, brow plates contracting in a frown, suddenly intent on some inner struggle.

She watched him, uncertain if it was safe to interrupt. “…Garrus?”

He turned towards her again, body language cautious, but his blue eyes were intent on her. “Do you know why I really stopped?” His voice was soft and low, and it sent shivers through her.

She blinked and raised her eyebrows. “…No?”

He took a step closer, and she realized that her lungs didn’t seem to be working properly. “For months, I only lived for revenge. Almost everything else worth living for had been taken from me, and with the Reapers hanging over everything, it didn’t seem worth looking for anything else anyway.”

“And then… in that moment… I realized I had a new reason to live. And it was in my scope.”

Her heart raced, her eyes widening. “Garrus.”

He faltered, gaze sliding away awkwardly. “I mean, there’s no one I respect more in the galaxy than you. You’re my best friend… Hell, you’re almost my only friend left. I don’t need to lose any more.”

She stood, her eyes soft. “D’you know what’s funny… I feel the same about you.” She stepped up to him and took his hands. “Just the same.”

He shuffled and coughed. “Mm. Ah. Is that so?”

She laced their fingers together. “I don’t do well with subtle hints, Garrus. If you’re saying what I think you’re saying…” Her heart was pounding harder than in combat, but she stood straight before him, looking up almost defiantly towards him. “You’re my best friend too. And I found a reason to live again when I knew you weren’t going to die.” She reached up with her left hand to gently brush the bandage fixed to the side of his face.

He made a little noise that might have been a gasp, and his fingers tightened on hers. “Hm. Didn’t know you had a weakness for men with scars.”

She laughed a little. “Got a weakness for you, buddy.”

That drew a chuckle out of him, dry but warm. “Then I guess I can confess I… well, it’s not like I have a fetish for humans, but you… you’ve always been amazing. Your determination, your stubbornness, your protectiveness… your big green eyes…”

She knew her eyes were sparkling as she grinned in half-embarrassed pleasure. “Go onnnn…”

His mandibles twitched. “You’re brave to the point of foolhardiness, and a mean shot, you take no crap… You headbutt krogan…”

“Garrus!” She swatted his armoured shoulder, and he laughed.

But once again, he pulled back a little. “Are you sure…? About this? I mean… what is this?”

“I’m sure,” she said, pressing closer again. “It’s… whatever you want it to be.”

“And… if I want it to be serious,” he said, his voice so soft and deep and his eyes unbearably intense.

“Then I’m glad,” she said, reaching up to put both hands gently on the sides of his face, her thumbs resting on the worn blue markings under his eyes. “Because that’s what I want too.”

An arm went hesitantly around her waist, and he carefully threaded the other through her red hair with a little hum as the strands fell across his fingers. She melted against the keel of his armour in response – as well as she could, at least. “Jane.”

She loved the way that voice rumbled through her, subharmonics buzzing, the way his mandibles moved almost imperceptibly against his face, showing a hint of deadly sharp teeth and narrow pointed tongue, the narrow waist and bony hips that seemed designed for her to sling a leg over, the strength in the big three-fingered hands holding her so carefully… She loved his intensity, his sardonic drawl, the way he might argue with things he didn’t agree with, and the way he would be right behind her no matter what the outcome of the argument was, loyal to a fault. She loved his moments of awkwardness, his moments of smugness, his focus, his skill, his recklessness. And it was all so… other, intelligible to her human sensibilities on the surface but the closer she got, the more she looked, the more alien it became, the more intriguing. Everything about him was so inhuman, and she loved him anyway.

She wasn’t sure how to say that. “So I’m feeling like this isn’t a good time to start dating, at least as it goes in human cultures.”

He nodded slowly. “Yeah. Yeah, that makes sense. I’d court you, as we do in turian culture, but when we might be throwing ourselves into almost-certain death in a while, doesn’t seem right to give ourselves too many distractions. So… what, then?”

“Moments like this,” she whispered, reaching up to brush his fringe. “Moments just for us in the chaos of the universe.”

“I like that,” he said.

“And sex, if you’re open to it,” she added. Might as well be upfront about it.

That took him a bit off guard, she thought, and he choked a bit, clearing his throat a few times before he spoke again. “Yeah. Well. Um. Definitely. If we can figure out a way to make it work, that would be… great.”

“Good,” she said, with a relieved smile.

His mandibles fluttered in response. “My dad would have a fit. I don’t care.”

“He’s not on this ship,” she said. “Hey, Garrus.” Why did he have to wear such bulky armour while safe on the Normandy?

“Yeah?”

“Can I… kiss you?”

“Yeah.” He leaned down, pressing his forehead to hers on the way, and she tilted her head and pressed her lips against his mouth plates. She knew she might have an allergic reaction and she didn’t care.

It was going to take a bit of practice, and getting used to. But this all felt… right. It made her so happy, to be able to finally express what had been building up inside her since they had met again, and she didn’t often get to be… just… happy. She trusted him completely, and he trusted her completely. She could keep going, as long as it took, if he was beside her.

She released him. “Thank you.”

He chuffed a little. “You don’t have to thank me for… for anything. I’m here if you need me.”

She kissed him one more time. “I know. And that’s why I want to thank you.” She drew away, smiling warmly at him, though she wanted to stay in his embrace… at least until tomorrow. “I’ll… see you later?”

“Yeah. Thanks for… stopping by.”

“Night, Garrus.”

“Night, Jane.”