Chapter Text
Shepard had been very quiet on the drive back from the rafters. Before she had got into the car, she had seemed happy, light-hearted even. It was a rare thing to see, the way she lit up thanks to just one simple smile. The peaceful moments when someone could pretend there wasn't a war going on and that everyone could die tomorrow. But now, she seemed lost in her own thoughts. She just stared out the window with a faraway fashion, even her laugh seemed downbeat when Garrus had commented on her aim. It worried him.
It worried him even more when her solipsistic state continued after she got out of the car. He watched her through sideways glances, but he could have just stared at her - she wouldn't have noticed. She was wringing her hands, fingers knotting together in about as many ways as she could weave them. She was also chewing on her bottom lip, something she only did when she was deep in thought. She didn't look at him - she didn't look at anyone at all. Sometimes she would stare at her hands, or at the floor just in front of her, occasionally the front of the car. She spent a moment, he noticed, watching the way he gathered up the remnants of their shooting match from the back seat. He doubted she was actually seeing what she was looking at. Her eyes had a tendency to watch movement when she was thinking, but not actually take anything in. She did react, however, when she heard the beep of the lock on the car, and fell automatically into step as he turned towards the docking bay.
The weapons scanner pinged as it read the signatures of the sniper rifles neatly packed away in case Garrus carried, but registered the permit equipped on both guns and they carried on through untroubled. The docking bay waiting area was unusually busy and most of those present were turian. Garrus quickly scanned the scene as he passed, noticing the military insignia the marked most, if not all, of the soldiers present as belonging to the Seventh Fleet. He had heard that one of their heavy cruisers had been in the Citadel dry dock for repairs when Palaven was hit, they were probably gearing up to ship out and crew members had spilled over into other waiting areas before boarding. There was quite a few families gathered, but most were small groups or soldiers and civilians - friends saying goodbye for what could be the last time. There was no cheerful chatter or excited buzz in the air. Quite a few of the asari were crying. The atmosphere was heavy.
And Shepard was still quiet.
So quite that Garrus wasn't even sure she was still following. Sidestepping a keeper as it chittered past him, he turned to see that Shepard had indeed fallen behind, still deep in thought. Her brow was furrowed and she was still gnawing on her bottom lip. Her focus was clearer now though, she was looking over the gathered crowd in a distant way - both paying attention to her surroundings and her thoughts at the same time. Her 'Commander' mask had slipped, no one seemed to notice the very famous woman wandering aimlessly past them. It struck him then how vulnerable, how fragile, she seemed when she wasn't aware she was being watched. Or judged.
He hadn't seen her this distracted, however, for a long while. And never in public before. She was so distracted that she hadn't noticed him stop walking, colliding with his side in a slow impact with a faint 'oof'. He had seen her coming, of course, and had moved so that she would simply end up on his arm rather than elsewhere. Only then did she seem to surface. She blinked at the metal in front of her face for a few seconds before it registered and she caught his eyes. No explanation was forthcoming, she just looked puzzled.
"Shepard, you've been distracted since you got in the car," Garrus began gently, tilting his head slightly, "clearly there's something bothering you." Truthfully, he was slightly worried about her answer. Their exchange up on the rafters of the prisidium, her unexpected confession…was she beginning to doubt it?
"Oh. I…" She frowned, unable to hold his gaze. She fidgeted on the spot, knotting her fingers almost frantically. Garrus stilled them by a simple touch, his hand on hers, which she stared at in silence.
"Am I being selfish, Garrus?" Her question was sudden, her tone worried and laced with an edge that he rarely heard. For a woman that was so capable, so sure of herself…she seemed so insecure and hesitant.
"Shepard, you're the most selfless pers-"
"I mean about us."
Garrus blinked. Out of all the question he could have expected, that was probably one of the last he could come up with. And he was struggling with an answer that would be acceptable. That she would believe. He knew her too well - a straight out denial wouldn't work even though it was genuine, she was too used to people lying to her. But he couldn't stay silent, that looked even worse. "I…don't think I completely understand the question."
Brilliant green eyes suddenly snapped back up to meet his and she frowned at the question. She wasn't angry, that wasn't her angry expression (odd that he could now read her face so well, yet he still struggled with the expressions on the faces of other humans). She exhaled loudly, lifting a hand so she could bite on an already short thumbnail. She drifted past him in thought, heading over to the railing that overlooked the viewing area. He followed, placing the case that held the rifles on the floor next to her.
"It's just…I've never asked if you want this." She was hushed, her voice only for him, but what she was saying left him dumbfounded. "I just ploughed right on in there like I always do, never stopping to consider if it's…"
She trailed off as his gauntleted hand cupped her chin, tilting her downcast face up so he could pin her gaze. "Shepard, when have I ever given you the idea that I don't want this?"
Her fingers wrapped around the hand under her chin and eased it away, her gaze following it as she wrapped five digits around three, 'brow still furrowed. "You haven't. But I don't want you doing something you…might regret later."
"I'm not sure I follow you."
"You're a handsome guy, Garrus - even with the scars. And I'm sure that your work with your task force has left you quite high on the 'eligible bachelors' list." She didn't give him time to argue, even though it was obvious he wanted to protest. She didn't pretend to know what turian women wanted in their men, or even if desirability was linked to social rank (which she suspected was the case either way), but she had to continue. She couldn't let this linger any longer than it had. "Just know that if you ever wanted…"
Her eyes travelled to a turian couple who were saying their goodbyes. Quite obviously joined, going by the way they acted; the look was universal, and the worry was etched into both of them. Shepard had been watching them before she walked into the back of Garrus, noting how the subtle, almost miss-able movements the male did mirrored what he had been doing for quite some time. She had never really noticed before, there was never much to go on and turian body language and courtship behaviour were unusually sparse on the extranet - and any turian romance vids were either very hard to find or non-existent.
Garrus followed her gaze, landing on the couple just as they rested their foreheads together in a moment of desperate peace. Everything about them screamed agony of being parted, of the fact that one (or both) could die in this war. In a lot of ways, it felt wrong to watch their intimate moment, but it was enough for him to grasp at what Shepard was saying. She was giving him an out.
She was giving him a way out. That concept was harder to grasp.
"I would understand. And I wouldn't stop -"
"Not going to happen, Commander."
Her attention was suddenly snapped back to him, green eyes meeting blue that flashed with an intensity she recognised. It was the same intensity that was there when she told him she loved him. It was the same intensity that was there when she made it clear that he wasn't a passing fancy, back in the Main Battery. And before that on Menae. And numerous times before that. Suddenly, she was struggling to swallow the thick knot that had lodged in her throat. He had also pulled her rank, which she hadn't heard him do in a personal conversation for what seemed like a long time. For once, she was lost for words. And he was closing the gap between them.
Garrus didn't care who saw, if there was anyone actually watching. One hand slid over her waist, squeezing gently as he pulled her as close as his armour would allow. He was leaning so close he could feel her breath on his face, his forehead brushing against hers. As intimate as he could get without kissing her in this very open, crowded place. He was such a bad turian.
"I'm with you, Shepard. Forever."