Christmas in July: A FemShep and Garrus ficlet
Title: Mistletoe
Rating: PG
Word Count: 634
Characters: Shepard and Garrus, brief appearance by Gardner
Summary: The Normandy crew take a break for a Christmas party and Shepard explains mistletoe to Garrus. Set during ME2.
Shepard looked around the dining hall, the crew had done an admirable job of decorating with limited funds and short notice. There was a small Christmas tree on some crates in front of the med bay and strands of lights wound their way around banisters and doorways creating a rainbow of reflections on the smooth steel. Occasionally, being on civilian ship had its advantages.
Several crew members smiled at Shepard as she moved through the crowd and made her way to the galley. She found Gardner in the kitchen serving eggnog out of a large bowl.
"And some for the Commander as well," he said handing her a glass.
"Oh, thank you."
The cook watched her eagerly, "It's an old family recipe," he said with a wink.
Shepard took a sip and coughed. Had the man been raised by krogan? She was pretty sure it was mixed with ryncol, or something almost as strong. "It certainly has a kick."
"Ha!" Gardner barked and slapped his leg, "We'll show these stiff backed Alliance types how to have a party."
She smiled politely and suddenly felt very sorry for Dr. Chakwas and the line of hung over crewmen she'd have to deal with in the morning. She glanced over at Chakwas, well, provided the doctor wasn't one of them herself.
A familiar head poked above the crowd and Shepard made her way to edge of the group and found Garrus leaning against a bulkhead by Miranda's office.
"You know, I always skipped the Christmas parties at C-Sec. Now I wonder if I missed out on something, mostly the opportunity to find stuff to hold over people when I needed a favor, but still something."
She gave him a lopsided smile and stood back to watch the party. Shepard examined the now familiar faces, temporarily happy and care-free. For just one night they weren't worrying about Collectors or missions with impossible odds. Tomorrow Miranda would order the decorations taken down and it would be back to business as usual. She sipped the eggnog and let her eyes follow the twinkling lights around the room until they eventually found their way to a sprig of green taped to the ceiling above the turian's head.
"I wouldn’t stand there if I were you."
"Why?" Shepard pointed up and Garrus followed the line of her finger. "What's that?"
"Mistletoe. It’s an old human Christmas tradition. Standing under the mistletoe means you get kissed."
"Oh really?" He straightened to his full height and puffed out his chest, expectantly looking around the room.
"You know," Shepard took another drink in an effort to maintain a straight face, "when you first came on board there were a number of crew members very interested in the mysterious Archangel."
"Is that so?" Like a preaning peacock he adjusted his armor. "And now?'
"Well, now they know you’re just boring turian who spends all his time in the main battery." Garrus slouched down again and crossed his arms. She gave him a supportive pat on the shoulder, "Sorry buddy, but the air of mystery has worn off I’m afraid."
"Well turians aren’t very good at kissing anyways."
Shepard laughed louder than she'd meant to causing some of the nearby crew to turn and look at them. She felt the heat rise in her cheeks and nervously cleared her throat. "I imagine not." As the surprise faded, the people around them returned to their conversations. Shepard stood on her toes and gave Garrus a quick peck just below the ever present bandage on his cheek. "There, tradition fulfilled and I’ve saved you from fawning fangirls."
Garrus gave her a sideways glance and ran a hand over his fringe, "So some of them are still interested."
Shepard rolled her eyes and shook her head with a chuckle.
Rating: PG
Word Count: 634
Characters: Shepard and Garrus, brief appearance by Gardner
Summary: The Normandy crew take a break for a Christmas party and Shepard explains mistletoe to Garrus. Set during ME2.
Shepard looked around the dining hall, the crew had done an admirable job of decorating with limited funds and short notice. There was a small Christmas tree on some crates in front of the med bay and strands of lights wound their way around banisters and doorways creating a rainbow of reflections on the smooth steel. Occasionally, being on civilian ship had its advantages.
Several crew members smiled at Shepard as she moved through the crowd and made her way to the galley. She found Gardner in the kitchen serving eggnog out of a large bowl.
"And some for the Commander as well," he said handing her a glass.
"Oh, thank you."
The cook watched her eagerly, "It's an old family recipe," he said with a wink.
Shepard took a sip and coughed. Had the man been raised by krogan? She was pretty sure it was mixed with ryncol, or something almost as strong. "It certainly has a kick."
"Ha!" Gardner barked and slapped his leg, "We'll show these stiff backed Alliance types how to have a party."
She smiled politely and suddenly felt very sorry for Dr. Chakwas and the line of hung over crewmen she'd have to deal with in the morning. She glanced over at Chakwas, well, provided the doctor wasn't one of them herself.
A familiar head poked above the crowd and Shepard made her way to edge of the group and found Garrus leaning against a bulkhead by Miranda's office.
"You know, I always skipped the Christmas parties at C-Sec. Now I wonder if I missed out on something, mostly the opportunity to find stuff to hold over people when I needed a favor, but still something."
She gave him a lopsided smile and stood back to watch the party. Shepard examined the now familiar faces, temporarily happy and care-free. For just one night they weren't worrying about Collectors or missions with impossible odds. Tomorrow Miranda would order the decorations taken down and it would be back to business as usual. She sipped the eggnog and let her eyes follow the twinkling lights around the room until they eventually found their way to a sprig of green taped to the ceiling above the turian's head.
"I wouldn’t stand there if I were you."
"Why?" Shepard pointed up and Garrus followed the line of her finger. "What's that?"
"Mistletoe. It’s an old human Christmas tradition. Standing under the mistletoe means you get kissed."
"Oh really?" He straightened to his full height and puffed out his chest, expectantly looking around the room.
"You know," Shepard took another drink in an effort to maintain a straight face, "when you first came on board there were a number of crew members very interested in the mysterious Archangel."
"Is that so?" Like a preaning peacock he adjusted his armor. "And now?'
"Well, now they know you’re just boring turian who spends all his time in the main battery." Garrus slouched down again and crossed his arms. She gave him a supportive pat on the shoulder, "Sorry buddy, but the air of mystery has worn off I’m afraid."
"Well turians aren’t very good at kissing anyways."
Shepard laughed louder than she'd meant to causing some of the nearby crew to turn and look at them. She felt the heat rise in her cheeks and nervously cleared her throat. "I imagine not." As the surprise faded, the people around them returned to their conversations. Shepard stood on her toes and gave Garrus a quick peck just below the ever present bandage on his cheek. "There, tradition fulfilled and I’ve saved you from fawning fangirls."
Garrus gave her a sideways glance and ran a hand over his fringe, "So some of them are still interested."
Shepard rolled her eyes and shook her head with a chuckle.