Chapter Text
“Shepard. It’s going to be fine.”
“I know that,” Shepard said, scrolling through the Palaven travel advisory for what was probably the twentieth time. Ever since their shuttle had entered the Trebia system, the tight knot of nerves that had simmered in her gut evolved into giant Tuchankan moths beating against the inside of her ribcage. She hadn’t felt this nervous since the day they launched the ground offensive on Earth against the Reapers.
Garrus settled his palm over her forearm, disrupting the light from her omnitool, “Shepard. C’mon.”
Reluctantly, she looked up at her boyfriend. He looked fond.
“My dad and sister are going to love you,” he said with an implacable sort of confidence she found difficult to fault, “In fact, Sol hasn’t shut up about this visit since I told her we were coming last month. She’s been dying to meet you.”
Shepard bit the corner of her bottom lip, “I know.”
Rationally, she knew her nerves were stupid. Garrus had stated his family approved of their relationship (“And even if they didn’t,” Garrus had remarked when she raised this point, “It wouldn’t change anything. I’m with you ‘til the end.”), and what little correspondence Shepard had with Solana had been friendly and open, if a little tentative on both sides, as if they were both equally nervous of causing accidental insult.
Still, Shepard never had a family. She had no idea who her parents were, if she ever had any siblings, just one of the many street-rats that hid in the trash-filled alleyways of Earth’s megacities. The idea of fucking it up for Garrus left her feeling ill from anxiety. She didn’t want to fuck it up.
The shuttle they were on rumbled, and the intercom crackled; “Now entering Palaven’s atmosphere. Please stay seated until we have landed at Cipritine Central Spaceport. Non-turian visitors are reminded to keep their environment suits on until nighttime due to high solar radiation. Thank you for flying with Shooting Stars Shuttle Systems.”
“Still can’t believe they named it that,” Shepard muttered as she leaned back in her seat. The shuttle’s rumbling built a fraction.
“The song’s catchy,” Garrus said, resting his hand atop of hers, his thumb rubbing over her knuckles, “I added it to my playlist, you know.”
“I know, I couldn’t get the song out of my head after our last match,” Shepard huffed. She and Garrus shared a playlist during their Armax Arena matches, but sometimes the sneaky bastard slipped in some songs that he knew were complete earworms for her. Somehow Garrus was immune to their addictive nature.
“How does it go again…?” he mused, tapping his chin with his talon, “Let’s see, it’s like, hmmmm-hm-hm, hm-hm-hmmmm-hm-hm-”
Shepard pointedly stepped on his foot.
“-ow,” Garrus finished, but he sounded smug.
Shepard huffed, but she found some of the tension bunching up her shoulders had eased. The shuttle gave another rumble, and she turned her attention to the window. The clouds whipped by, followed by the flicker of the shuttle’s shields from the force of its re-entry, until the clouds gave way to a grand expanse of Palaven’s cityscape below. It had been rebuilt almost in its entirety in only two short years.
Mostly due to the geth’s help. They were remarkably speedy builders, even if they needed a bit of negotiation on how they styled buildings. Geth architecture was an… acquired taste.
The shuttle landed with little fuss in Cipritine’s busy spaceport, and after being cleared to debus, Shepard lifted her helmet from underneath her seat and fitted it on. She felt weird, being in her N7 suit while Garrus was in his civvies, but Palaven’s solar radiation was no joke, even with all the cybernetic improvements Cerberus forced her body through. Until nighttime, Shepard was stuck in the environ-suit when going outside.
“Sol said she was picking us up,” Garrus said as they made their way off the shuttle, “She’s a bit scatter-brained when it comes to timings though, so… we’ll see.”
Directly outside the shuttle was a customs officer checking papers and identifications. There was the slightest pause when it was their turn, the turian customs officer striking up a respectful salute to Garrus and Shepard both. She almost laughed at the embarrassment on Garrus’s face when they passed through.
“Not used to fame, eh?” she jibed, playfully elbowing him in the ribs, “That’s not like my proud Archangel.”
“Ugh, it’s different when it’s Armax fans,” Garrus mock-complained, “It’s just plain embarrassing when Palaven turians salute you.”
“Whatever you say, big guy.”
Unlike Earth spaceports, where it took a short eon to collect your luggage, turian spaceports were far more efficient and swift. The small suitcase that had both of their belongings was found within twenty minutes of roaming the luggage carousel, neither of them getting into the habit of packing much, since they spent most of their lives living on a frigate with very little locker space. Even Shepard, with that indulgent cabin of hers on the Normandy SR-2, always packed light.
From the luggage collection point, it was a short journey to the skycar zone. A tower block for parking was wedged next to the spaceport itself, with a large open lot that was dedicated to pick ups, drop offs, and taxis. Garrus paused, scanning the gathered skycars with a low hum, while Shepard idly swung the suitcase from hand to hand.
Palaven was hot, but it wasn’t disgustingly hot. It was probably thanks to her environ-suit, but it didn’t feel as heavy and humid as she’d been warned about. The sky was a strange, off-green tinge, the clouds grey and heavy - though it did nothing to nullify Palaven’s sun, Trebia. The surrounding buildings were dull grey and silver, glittering beneath Trebia’s light - but not reflecting. Right. It’d be bad if their buildings were like Earth’s.
“Ah, I see her,” Garrus said, snatching her attention back, “Over there. Come on.”
Shepard followed him, finding herself lagging behind half a step, clutching the handle of the suitcase tight. They weaved past a few skycars, towards a bright red one parked up beneath a shady cover. A slender female turian was leaning up against it, playing with her omnitool, oblivious to their approach.
The turian, Solana, looked both similar and different to Garrus. She had the same colony markings, obviously, though her plates were a darker shade of grey. She was a little taller than Garrus too, though Shepard wasn’t too well-versed in turian sexual dimorphism to know if that was normal. Nyreen had been tall and lanky too.
At their approach, Solana quickly looked up, her mandibles flaring in a wide smile, “There you are! Finally. Did your shuttle get delayed?”
“No, we were on time,” Garrus said, “Why? How long have you been waiting?”
“Uh, since dawn?” Solana said, “Damn it, did I get the wrong time again?”
“At least you weren’t late,” Garrus said, and glanced over at Shepard, giving her a ‘come on’ tilt of his head.
Swallowing down the sudden resurgence of nerves, Shepard stepped up beside Garrus, forcing herself to hold the suitcase loosely at her side, ignoring her instinct to hold it up like a shield. How the hell was interacting with Garrus’s sister more anxiety-inducing than dodging Reaper laser beams?
“Hi, Sol,” Shepard said, then immediately wanted to kick herself. Wasn’t that way too informal?
“Shepard! Welcome to Palaven!” Solana greeted cheerily, and without warning swooped in for a hug.
Shepard froze, startled when she found herself smooshed up against Solana’s carapace. She heard Garrus cough over a poorly-suppressed laugh, and it was all Shepard could do to awkwardly pat Solana’s side, since her arms were pinned in place.
“Uh- thanks?” Shepard blurted, letting out a quiet wheeze when Solana gave her one last squeeze and released her.
“Oh, sorry, was that too forward?” Solana said, immediately brushing Shepard’s environ-suit down, “I was too forward, wasn’t I? Sorry, Shepard, it’s just… I’ve been so excited to meet you. Garrus never shuts up about you, you know? You’d think you single handedly killed the Reapers with nothing but a pistol with how he goes on-”
“Sol,” Garrus hissed, looking embarrassed.
Shepard felt herself start to smile, and it was a shame her helmet hid it, “Oh?”
Solana looked like she was about to say more, but Garrus cut in with a, “Can we have this talk at the house? We can’t have Shepard standing around in an environ-suit all day.”
“Oh. Oh! I forgot- yes, humans can’t stand our sun very well,” Solana ushered them into the skycar. Garrus took the backseat, leaving Shepard in the passenger seat next to Solana, “Not to worry, we’ve solar-proofed the house for you. The windows will keep the worst of the radiation out, so you don’t have to worry about anything.”
That seemed like a lot of effort just for her. “That wasn’t too much trouble, was it?”
“No, no, not at all! Ever since the- well, war, there’re more humans on Palaven. Krogan too, weirdly, but the solar radiation doesn’t bother them too much.”
“Palaven is like a vacation for them,” Garrus said wryly behind them.
“Yeah, pretty much,” Solana said agreeably, “Anyway, because humans are more common, solar-proofing houses aren’t as expensive as they used to be. I mean, at first the geth was doing the Cipritine reconstruction for free - for free - until the quarians started agitating about slave labour or something. Personally I think they just wanted a slice of the financial pie. The geth must be rolling in it.”
Shepard thought back to Rannoch, which she had visited several months ago in one of her infrequent visits to Tali’s home. You’d never think the quarians and geth had such a bloody history with how entwined their culture and infrastructure was now. Oh, there were tensions still, some staunch anti-geth factions brooding amongst the quarians population, but they were in the quiet minority. Privately, Shepard hoped they stayed quiet. Tali had built something wonderful on Rannoch, and the geth-quarian peace was still a little fragile, a little tentative, and to see it ruined because of old grudges…
She forced her mind from such dark thoughts. Not the time.
“The geth are doing pretty well for themselves,” Shepard said, “We went to Rannoch two months ago, and saw some of their cities.”
“I know, Garrus sent me pictures,” Solana sighed wistfully, “I’m kind of jealous. I’d like to go to Rannoch someday.”
“There’re plenty of opportunities to go, Solana,” Garrus said, “You’re still into engineering, right?”
“Well, yeah, but... “ Solana huffed, “Compared to quarians, I’m like a baby. I doubt they’d want me bumbling around their liveships and making a mess of things.”
“I could ask Tali if she’d feel like giving you a go,” Shepard suggested, and blinked when Solana made a small squeaking sound, “Um?”
“Ohhh, sorry! Sorry, I just- that would be great! But, I don’t want to take advantage of, uh, nepotism or something.”
Shepard blinked at her, utterly baffled. Luckily, Garrus was well-read into Shepard’s silences, even with a helmet covering her expressions.
“Sol’s very much a ‘I want to do it myself’ kind of idiot,” Garrus drawled, and there was a small thump that said he kicked the back of Solana’s seat, “You should take advantage, Sol. She’s offering for you to take advantage."
“Only because I’m your sister,” Solana huffed.
Shepard quietly observed the sibling squabble that ensued, seeing a new side to Garrus she rarely saw. Ah, he and Solana really were alike, she mused. Solana was a bit more bubbly, less… jaded and bitter about things, despite being on Palaven when the Reapers invaded, but she still had that sharp wit and snark Garrus had in spades. Shepard had to admire her fortitude.
“Oh, now look, Garrus! You’ve had us completely leave poor Shepard out,” Solana drawled, sharply turning her skycar to turn off the main route, “Sorry, Shep- oh, do you want to be called Shepard? Should it be Jane? Or should I’ve been calling you Commander?”
“Shepard’s Shepard,” Garrus answered, “She doesn’t have a first name.”
“Quiet you,” Shepard said, “You can call me Jane if you want, Sol. I don’t mind.”
“Jane,” Solana tried, “That’s a pretty name. Why doesn’t Garrus call you it?”
“Uh, he does, but…” Shepard said slowly, trying to think on how to phrase ‘but only when we’re fucking’ without mentally scarring her.
Luckily, Solana caught the hidden meaning, “Oh. Oh. Ew. I mean, not ew but- sorry, but, don’t want to think about Garrus doing that. Nope.”
Garrus groaned quietly from the backseat, sounding mortified, and Shepard laughed quietly. The nerves that had gnawed at her seemed so silly now. Solana was so easy to be comfortable around.
The conversation flowed into more relaxed things at that, the built up area of Cipritine melting away into sparser suburbs and ecologies. Eventually they landed outside of a building that had quite a bit of open land around it - Shepard spied a backyard shooting range and had to smile.
“Here we are, home sweet home,” Solana said, getting out of the skycar. Shepard followed, looking up at the building. It was made of that same off-grey, silvery material the buildings around the spaceport were, not reflecting Trebia’s glaring light. It was also slightly domed, its sprawling nature suggesting it only had the ground floor - unless the upstairs didn’t have windows. The path leading up to the house cut through a very green garden, the flowerbeds overflowing with alien plants Shepard only recognised the half of - all dextro, of course.
“Yeah, dad really got into gardening recently,” Solana said, “It makes the house look nice, though. Anyway, let me help you with that, Sh- Jane.”
Solana took the suitcase, pausing at how light it was, but she didn’t comment on it. With a low hum, she led Garrus and Shepard up along the path, opening the door with a few swipes of the codelock. She stepped inside and shouted; “Dad! Garrus and his girlfriend are here!”
Shepard couldn’t help it. She flushed at Solana saying that so easily - his girlfriend - and was glad she still kept the helmet on. Garrus made a small noise too, a quiet cough right in the back of his throat, and was peering around the entranceway in open curiosity. It hit Shepard then that this was his first time seeing this place too - his original home had been destroyed in the Reaper invasion.
She sobered.
Another turian appeared in the entranceway - his similarities to Garrus were striking, the main difference being his age and the paleness of his plates. Turians tended to get, for lack of a better word, craggy as they aged, and this one, who was presumably Castis, was definitely getting on in years.
“Garrus. Commander Shepard. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you,” Castis greeted formally, his voice low and raspy, “Sol, why don’t you show them the living room? I’ll get us refreshments.”
Not as warm as Solana, but Shepard couldn’t sense any hidden dislike. Garrus always complained that his dad was a bit of a hardass (and hated Spectres, she tried not to think), and it seemed his sternness translated into family interactions too. Unless Shepard was just causing that with her presence. Still, Castis vanished into the kitchen - presumably - and Solana ushered them into the living room.
It reminded Shepard a little of the lounge back on the Normandy, except bigger and sans the bar. There was a wide window that stretched along most of the wall, showing off the otherside of the garden in full bloom. The seats were low and cosy, though Solana stopped her before she sat down.
“Wait, maybe you should get changed into some clothes, first?” Solana asked, holding up the suitcase, “You don’t need to wear your environ-suit in here.”
Shepard hesitated, but Garrus gave her an encouraging nudge on her flank; “Go on, Shep. I can entertain Dad while you get changed.”
“Alright,” she pointed sternly at Garrus, “Behave while I’m gone.”
“I would never cause trouble.”
Shepard and Solana scoffed at the same time - and looked at each other.
“Spirits, you’re already bonding,” Garrus muttered.
“That’s right, we are,” Solana said snootily, and linked her elbow with Shepard’s, pulling her along, “And I have a lot of gossip to share with her about you!”
Garrus huffed and grumbled at their retreating backs, but it was clearly for show. Solana tugged her out of the living room, still arm in arm, and led her down a short corridor. The walls were beige, and there were a few photos framed on the walls. She recognised Castis in one of them, with an unknown female turian, and two smaller…
“Oh my god. Is that baby Garrus?” Shepard gasped, coming to a sharp stop, “It is!”
“Huh? Ohhhh, you’ve never seen his baby pictures?” Solana’s mandibles twitched into a smirk, “Yeah, that’s Garrus. He was such a cute baby, I don’t know what happened.”
“He took a rocket to the face,” Shepard said absently, studying the turian child in the photo. She only just recognised him as Garrus - turian kids were still kinda weird to her. They reminded her of baby chickens without the fluff. So cute but. Weird cute.
She made a mental note to take a snapshot later to save and tease Garrus about, and they continued down the corridor. One turn and two doors down, Solana ushered her into a modest-sized bedroom with a double bed. The curtains were drawn, but enough light filtered through to see it had a chest of drawers, a full-length mirror and a closet. There was also an en-suite bathroom.
“So, this is the guest room. We assumed you and Garrus would be bunking,” Solana chattered, setting the suitcase down on the bed, “If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask. I, um, I haven’t really dealt with many humans, but I read up on what you might need. We have a lot of levo food, and we’ve marked it all up too so you don’t accidentally eat any dextro and get sick, and I triple checked that our water’s safe for human consumption too-”
“Sol,” Shepard interrupted, “It’s fine. I don’t have a dextro-allergy.”
“Oh, thank the Spirits,” Solana breathed, her shoulders slumping, “Garrus said you didn’t but, eh, I didn’t want to take any chances.”
“I get it,” Shepard said, giving her a friendly pat on the shoulder before taking her helmet off. She set it on the bed and popped open her suitcase, pushing the lid back. Her civvies were right on top, her loose tank-top, N7 hoodie, and sturdy trousers. She took them out.
Solana was watching her closely.
“Yes?” Shepard asked.
“Huh? Oh,” Solana fidgeted, looking flustered, “Sorry, I’m just… this is the closest I’ve been to a human and, your hair is very, um, red and pretty. I mean, I know it’s red, I’ve seen pictures of you, but, up close it’s really red.”
Shepard smiled, amused. By this point she was long used to other races’ fascination with human hair. Garrus himself had finally caved into the ‘hair mystery’ and asked her if he could touch it - long before they had started dating - which she had acquiesced to indulgently. Turians, especially, went wild for petting human hair. It was a little strange, but endearing.
“You can touch it if you want,” Shepard said, “I don’t mind.”
Solana lit up, and very slowly, like she was approaching a wild, skittish animal, reached out. Shepard stayed still, ducking her head slightly as Solana buried her fingers into her hair, her talons gently scratching her scalp as she stroked it very carefully. It felt really nice - and reminded her of Garrus’s very careful handling of her hair. He liked to stroke it when in an affectionate mood, and it left Shepard feeling like a very spoiled cat at times.
“It’s so soft,” Solana whispered, “Oh, I’m so jealous of Garrus. He gets to touch this everyday!”
“Yeah, he sure does,” Shepard muttered, her mind turning to dirtier things before forcing herself to focus. Don’t make things weird with his sister, Shepard, “Um, anyway, can I…?”
“Huh? Oh! Sorry,” Solana quickly stopped rubbing her hands over Shepard’s hair, looking embarrassed, “I got carried away.”
“It’s fine,” Shepard said, starting to strip out of her environ-suit. She was wearing an undersuit, so it was fine - not that she had any body shyness left after the Alliance and being Cerberus’s pet project, “Garrus was pretty much the same.”
“I know in our culture classes at school,” Solana said, “We get told not to touch human hair without invitation. It’s a social faux pas, right?”
“Uh, yeah, it’s rude to just start touching another human’s hair,” Shepard said, “I remember Garrus telling me it was a big thing on the Citadel a while back - other races kept trying to pet humans?”
“Haha, yeah, Dad told me about that,” Solana said cheerily, leaning against the dresser. She crossed her legs, her elbow resting against the top of the dresser - it was a very Garrus-like pose that it made Shepard wonder if it was something they both picked up from Castis, “They had all these posters put up and public service announcements to not touch their hair, because it counted as assault, etcetera, etcetera.”
“Huh,” Shepard set the last piece of her N7 suit on the bed, and planted her hands on her hips. Her undersuit was pretty snug, but it’d be too hot to wear this under her civvies. Without a thought, she unzipped it.
“Yeah. One time, Dad even said- oh,” Solana abruptly straightened up, “Should I turn around?”
“It’s fine. I’ve got underwear on,” Shepard said, then remembered ‘underwear’ wasn’t a common concept amongst turians, “I'm not naked underneath,” she amended.
Solana settled again, though she was pointedly looking away from her when Shepard wriggled out of her undersuit, “Uhh, okay. Um, what was I saying…?”
“Your dad was saying something?”
“Oh… oh! Yeah, so Dad said…”
Shepard changed briskly, switching the undersuit for her far more comfortable civvies. Despite her outward distraction, she listened closely to Solana’s chatter about her father and the frequent arguments he had with Garrus in C-Sec. Castis was very much a law-abiding officer, and had even threatened to throw Garrus into jail himself to try and curb his more loose cannon tendencies - not that the threats seemed to have done much, judging by how Garrus had helped her steal the Normandy and went on a one-man mission to bring order to Omega.
“Your dad and Garrus sound like total opposites,” Shepard remarked neutrally, the pair of them leaving the guest bedroom behind.
“Nah, they’re really similar. They just have different opinions on what’s ‘right’,” Solana did the air-quotes that turians had adopted so quickly from humans. It always looked a little silly, “Dad believes in following the rules to the letter, whereas Garrus is… well, Garrus.”
Shepard hummed. Yup, Garrus was indeed Garrus.
Solana lowered her voice into a whisper, “Dad says that Garrus inherited Mom’s, uh, more passionate nature. She was a firecracker. Her and Dad met when Dad tried to arrest her during his C-Sec days, and she knocked him flat on his ass.”
Wow, what? Hidden Vakarian lore right there. Shepard raised her eyebrows, and Solana smiled at her clear surprise.
“Dad’s got hidden depths,” Solana said, “Don’t believe all of Garrus’s griping about him.”
Their steps had slowed. Shepard, after a pause, probed the subject she rarely broached with Garrus.
“He doesn’t really talk about your mother much,” she said.
Solana grimaced, “Ah, yeah. It’s… a bit of a touchy subject. She got ill, really ill, and this was after Garrus left C-Sec after you- yeah. Things were tense between us for a while…”
It was clearly a topic Solana wasn’t comfortable with. Shepard kicked herself for her misstep.
“But it’s fine now,” Solana finished, “Anyway, I wish you could’ve met Mom. I wasn’t lying about her being a firecracker - she would’ve loved you. Takes a rare girl to wrangle Garrus. I've never seen him so well-behaved."
“Nah, he’s a sweetheart, really,” Shepard said lightly, letting the topic shift to lighter waters, “Soft as a kitten.”
“A what?”
“A kitten. It’s an animal from Earth- hold on, I’ll show you on my omnitool.”
And that was how they entered the living room, both of them bent over Shepard’s omnitool looking at different cat breeds. Solana was fascinated, especially in regards to the diversity of the animal’s coat. Fur was a rare thing to be found on the species of Palaven, which explained turian fascination with human hair, in retrospect.
“See, Dad? They’re getting along like a house on fire,” Garrus’s voice snapped them out of their examination of a particularly fluffy Norwegian forest cat, and Shepard and Solana looked up embarrassedly.
“Oops, we got distracted,” Solana recovered first, straightening up with a laugh as Shepard quietly turned off her omnitool, “Sorry!”
“Quite alright,” Castis rumbled, gesturing to them to take a seat, “I’m glad you two are making fast friends.”
Shepard sat down next to Garrus - who was pointedly on the sofa opposite to the armchair Castis was occupying. Solana sat on the other armchair in between, almost as if in a mediator position, and Shepard felt her nerves come surging back. She sat on the edge of the sofa, knees together and back straight, as if she was seated before the military tribunal again - except this was somehow more important.
“Commander Shepard,” Castis said, “It’s an honour to meet you in person. You’re a well-respected individual here on Palaven. The Primarch sings your praises almost every day - as well as my son.”
“Dad,” Garrus muttered.
Would it be presumptuous for Shepard to ask him to drop the Commander? In fact, how should she refer to him? Just Castis sounded too informal, but she had no idea if he held any kind of rank - he was C-Sec, right? Or had he completely retired? Shepard suddenly felt foolish for not grilling Garrus about this before they landed.
“I’m surprised Victis has nice things to say, considering I pretty much kidnapped him off Menae,” Shepard tried to joke, “Pretty sure he resents me for turning him into a politician, which is a fate I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy.”
Garrus’s mandibles twitched in the way they did when he was trying to hide a smile. Shepard was making an ass of herself, then.
Castis peered at her, as if unsure on how to respond to that, but Solana, who Shepard was beginning to feel a deep and intense fondness for, quickly cut in with a, “Tea, Jane? I, uh, found some human tea at the interplanetary market yesterday. I hope it’s okay?”
“Yeah, that’s fine. Thanks, Sol.”
Solana quickly poured her tea - which was in a teapot clearly marked with a red stripe. Another teapot was marked with a blue stripe. It didn’t take a genius to figure the system out.
There was no sugar or milk, but Shepard didn’t comment when Solana gave her the teacup. Solana looked a little exasperated, and shared a private eye roll with her, which Shepard couldn’t help but smile at.
“Anyway,” Solana continued before Castis or Garrus could speak, “I just realised, we never made any official plans on where to take Jane during her stay here. She can’t spend her week on Palaven cooped up in the house.”
“We were thinking of checking out the Armax Arena,” Garrus said as Shepard sipped her tea, “We thought it’d be fun to see how their set up is.”
“Garrus, you can’t spend the whole week at Armax Arena,” Solana said flatly, “You guys always go to Armax Arena whenever you visit other planets - your matches are on the extranet every day. I’m pretty sure you live there.”
“Not in Palaven’s.”
“Jane,” Solana turned fully towards her, “Do you want to go to Armax Arena all week?”
Shepard hid her smile into the rim of her teacup, glancing over at Garrus. He was giving her what she dubbed ‘the puppy dog’ eyes. It was a remarkably cute look on him.
“Maybe for a day or two,” she compromised, “But I’ve never been to Palaven before…”
“Exactly!” Solana exclaimed, “And there’s plenty to show off here. We have the famous Palaven beaches-”
“That Shepard would have to be in an environmental suit for.”
“-the shopping centre of the capital-”
“That Shepard would have to be in an environmental suit for.”
“-lots of hiking routes-”
“Environmental suit.”
“-Garrus,” Solana said warningly.
Shepard’s shoulders shook from keeping her laughter in, and she rested her teacup in her lap, chancing a look at Castis. He was watching them with that quiet, fond air all parents seemed to reserve for their exasperating children - or so Shepard presumed, being parentless as she was. It reminded her a little of Anderson or Hackett whenever they dealt with the aftermath of some of her more reckless escapades.
“I don’t mind being in an environmental suit all day,” Shepard said, shifting closer to Garrus to gently nudge him in the ribs with her elbow, “I mean, it’s what I was expecting coming here.”
“Yeah, see, listen to your girlfriend,” Solana scolded her brother, wagging a finger at him, “She wants to go out and see the sights. Your sister has an intuition for these things.”
“There are some beaches geared towards off-world tourists,” Castis spoke up suddenly, “They have protective shelters against solar radiation. You could visit there.”
Shepard was actually warming up to the idea. When was the last time she actually went to a beach? One that wasn’t crawling with heretic geth or pissed off mercs shooting at her? She honestly couldn’t remember. They never went to a planet where a tourist beach was readily available, being more drawn to packed cities than countryside.
Garrus glanced at her and obviously saw her interest. He sighed quietly, but it was an indulgent, fond sound, “You want to go, don’t you?”
“It’s been a while since I went to the beach,” she said, “Well, one I wasn’t getting shot at, anyways.”
“Then it’s decided,” Solana said, “We’re gonna have a beach day.”
Garrus frowned at his sister, “‘We’?”
“This is a family outing, brother. Also I kind of want to go to the beach too.”
“I don’t mind Sol coming,” Shepard said before Garrus could tell her ‘no’, “I think it’ll be fun.”
Tag-teamed like that, Garrus was soundly defeated. He glanced at Castis with clear apprehension, “You coming too, Dad?”
“I’m too old for beach days,” Castis said, “It’s better if you three just enjoy yourselves.”
“We can go tomorrow,” Solana said, checking her omnitool, “The weather’s meant to be nice then, after that it’s kind of gloomy. Did you bring a swimsuit, Jane? Humans wear those at beaches, right? We can go shopping, if you haven’t.”
“I can just go in my undersuit. It’s waterproofed-”
“Oh no, no no no,” Solana said immediately, “We need to get you a proper swimsuit. A- what is it you humans call it? A ‘bee-key-knee’?”
Garrus coughed and muttered sotto voce, “A bikini.”
Shepard had no idea why she needed a bikini when her undersuit would cover up a lot more skin. Solana had a familiar, stubborn look about her, though - Garrus looked the same way when he got an idea into his head he refused to let go - so Shepard decided to just give in. It’ll be a good bonding experience with Solana, at least, who she was already feeling quite charmed by. Castis was a little stilted, but at least Solana readily accepted her.
“Alright,” Shepard said slowly, “I’m not much of a bikini-person, though. Too, ah, buff and scarred up.”
“Nonsense,” Solana scolded, “I bet all the guys would be tripping over themselves at the sight of you! Uh, no offence, Garrus.”
“Huh. Maybe you should wear the undersuit, then,” Garrus mused, “You’ll be beating admirers off with a stick otherwise.”
“Only if that beach is occupied entirely by krogan,” Shepard deadpanned, “Humans don’t like scars on their women.”
“Awful taste,” Garrus muttered under his breath.
Solana, however, looked entertained about the idea of Garrus fighting off a legion of krogan admirers, “Well, I mean, I did tell you there are a lot of krogan on Palaven nowadays…”
“You joke,” Garrus said, “But she will get approached by krogan admirers.”
“I get regular breeding requests in my inbox,” Shepard admitted, to which Sol stared at her, “I dunno, it’s kind of flattering?”
“The krogan know that there’s… incompatibility breeding-wise, right…?” Sol asked slowly.
“It’s their way of complimenting her,” Garrus said in a flat, resigned tone that made it clear he had long accepted Shepard being considered hot by the krogan race as a whole, “Just… don’t ask questions about it.”
“Huh.”
Luckily, the conversation shifted to less awkward topics after that. Shepard found the tension bunching up her shoulders slowly easing up as Solana wisely changed the topic to the shopping centre they’d be visiting later to hunt for her swimsuit (“And more clothes! I can’t believe you two packed like you’re getting deployed on a Terminus system patrol!”). Apparently the interior of the shopping centre was solar-proofed, so Shepard would be able to walk around without her helmet in there, and actually try on clothes in the changing rooms.
“They have shops catering specifically for humans and asari,” Solana explained, “You know, since your bodies are… similar. They should have swimsuits, I’m sure!”
It was only a matter of time until the conversation dwindled more towards what they were up to nowadays. Castis had been mostly quiet, content in observing his children interact with Shepard, but it was then that he decided to step in.
“I heard that you’re still a Spectre, Commander,” Castis commented, “Is that true? With how you and Garrus spend your days as top-performing Armax Arena fighters, I assumed you had retired.”
“Ah,” Shepard paused, wondering if this was a landmine conversation or not. Garrus and Solana didn’t look overly tense, so she just ploughed right into it with her usual honesty, “It’s a bit complicated. I’m still technically a Spectre, but me and the Council have a, uh, understanding.”
“Understanding?” Castis frowned.
“Unless the galaxy is literally burning down, the Council will leave her alone,” Garrus answered for her, “In recognition for her service against the Reaper threat.”
It was a little more than that, in all honesty, but Shepard wasn’t privy to all the details about her ‘semi-retirement’, as she’d been in a coma for a few weeks after the Crucible had fired. There had been some sort of political snafu, of course, mostly between the salarians and the krogan, and the Council had been non-too subtly asking that once Shepard had recovered, if she could just… solve that problem, please and thank you, in her capacity as a Spectre.
Hackett had shut that down quickly. Hackett also shut down subsequent requests. Hackett did a lot of things that resulted in Shepard being told she was semi-retired as a Spectre who would only be called up in events of ‘catastrophic proportions’. Shepard… hadn’t really questioned it. She had been wrung dry at that point.
“It’s not too bad,” Shepard said easily, “I keep my Spectre privileges and pay without having to do anything for it. It’s like I’m being paid to be on a permanent vacation.”
“That’s exactly what’s happening,” Garrus said.
“I see,” Castis hummed, “Well, it can’t be said you didn’t earn it.”
Shepard internally breathed a sigh of relief. With what Garrus had said about his father, she assumed he’d disapprove of her keeping her Spectre status while actually not doing anything productive. It turned out almost killing yourself defeating the Reapers had some perks. Good for her.
“It’s so cool,” Solana sighed, “You’re a Spectre, a pro-fighter, a famous war hero… Garrus, how the hell did you convince her to go out with you?”
Shepard smirked when Garrus coughed, scratching his scarred mandible, “Well, Shepard came onto me, so…”
“What?” Solana turned to Shepard, “Jane. Why? He’s such a nerd. You could do so much better.”
“Hey,” Garrus frowned.
“Well…” Shepard hummed, slanting a wicked grin Garrus’s way, “I like nerds, and Garrus is a good partner. He’s sweet and kind and, oh, really cute.”
Garrus was flustered. His mandibles clicked and the skin around his plates started to flush a slight blue as he mumbled, “I am not cute.”
Shepard and Solana sniggered, laughing at his adorable turian-pout, while Garrus turned a long suffering look on an obviously amused Castis.
“You wanted them to meet,” Castis reminded his son mildly.
“Yeah…” Garrus sighed, unable to fight down a smile, “I’m regretting it already.”
And it was just the first day too.