Excerpt: As In Dreams (ME3 Spoilers)
Title: As In Dreams
Chapter: Bewitched
Rating: T
Warning: The links provided click through to the WIP fic, which is rated M thanks to Jack.
Featured Characters: (in this snippet) Garrus, FemShep, Samara
Synopsis: A galaxy redeemed. A hero sacrificed. But light-years away and lost, Garrus and the others face unknown challenges and too many unanswered questions. The dreams of Shepard only make it worse, and a discovery leaves all of reality shaken.
He knew this place. The air was hot with life and generators that never stopped running. There was a constant thrum of engines and ventilators, the buzz of electric lights, and the tinny murmur of the much-ignored galaxy news broadcasts. Garrus moved through the dim red and yellow lights, pushing his way through the crowd-humans, batarians, vorcha, and salarians all blending together into one maddening throng. Omega. It felt like home. But he couldn't say this was a good thing.
Garrus walked into the flames, not noticing the heat as he moved to the next set of doors. Music boomed. Asari snaked around poles up on the raised platform behind the bar, ignoring remarks shouted at them from drunk lowlifes below. He nodded to one of the turian bouncers and kept on moving, around the inner hub and up a set of stairs. He was heading for where Aria normally kept shop, and he wasn't quite sure why. There was a sense of need, not so much necessity but more like duty. He'd been summoned, so he was here.
The bodyguards were posted at their usual intervals. They casually held their rifles or rested hands on pistols and didn't seem to pay him any mind as he passed. At the top of the last flight, he was totally expecting the usual hand to the chest, a quick scan, a needless argument of identity just to prove that he wasn't here as Archangel and nor was he a threat. To his surprise, the couches of the upper platform were empty. No Aria. No guards. Instead, a human woman sat off to one side, her dark hair bound up into a thick bun at the back of her head, her Alliance officer uniform looking black in the unnatural light. There was a glass of an amber liquid in her hand with a small table beside her holding another glass and a couple of corked bottles.
"I expected you earlier."
There was no, "Hey, how are you?" No rushing to her feet to tackle him with a hug...and maybe a kiss if she felt so inclined. Shepard just sat there, looking at her glass instead of him, a line of concentration creasing her brow.
He awkwardly cleared his throat. "I didn't expect this to be the bar in heaven."
That brought a smile to her lips as she tilted her drink back. "It's not. But it is Afterlife, so I thought it appropriate enough for now."
"Oh...okay." His voice was slow, cautious. He turned his head so that he was looking at her without his visor in the way. He'd seen her so much in his dreams, but this was definitely the first time she'd spoken to him directly. So often, he was an obscure third-party observer. But this? Aside from an uncomfortable feeling of vertigo, he could have sworn he were really standing in the heart of Omega.
"But I'm glad you came," Shepard went on, gesturing to a space of empty couch beside her. "I wasn't sure you would."
Garrus simply blinked at her as he took a seat. He couldn't recall having much choice in the matter, not that he would have denied her, anyway. He didn't care how much his brain was playing tricks on him at this point. An opportunity to even think he was talking to Shepard was not one he was keen on wasting.
"I'm always here for you, Shepard. You know that."
She smiled. Her eyes finally turned to take him in, the gray full of warmth and weariness all at once. She was still tired, just like she had been the night before the Cerberus base. He'd stayed with her through the nightmares. Now, it was her turn. Her hand reached over and clasped his, her five fingers weaving between his three.
"You don't have to worry about me," she said gently, her quiet voice still somehow carrying over the noise. "I'm fine."
"Where are you?" he asked, more urgently than he'd intended. He hoped the answer wasn't going to be his mind making something up. "The Citadel? Earth?"
Shepard shrugged. "I honestly don't know. I remember the Citadel last but..." her eyes narrowed as she looked off into the middle distance, some nondescript point under the floor. "But there's a lot of Geth chatter. I'm going to be a bit pissed if it turns out that I'm dead, and that's what I'll deal with for eternity."
It was half a joke, but neither of them laughed. Shepard being dead again had crossed his mind more than once, but for once, just once, he wanted his own desire to trump that of fate and the universe. For a while, they just sat there, hand in hand and letting the booming music of the club reverberate through them both. It wasn't the most calming of atmospheres, and it definitely hadn't been where he'd ever expected to find Shepard...ever...but here they were.
Shepard suddenly inhaled a deep breath and stood, letting go of him and stepping over to the balcony edge to where she could see the entire floor below, the massive sign for Afterlife glowing above her head.
"This isn't what I'd had in mind," she said, studying the scene around them for a brief moment before raising her hand. She appeared to brush it against a flat yet invisible surface. There was nothing there, but Garrus stared in wonder when the air shimmered and seemed to pixelate from her touch. Shepard drew her hand back, quirked a smile, and touched a single finger to that same place in the air. There was a small ripple effect and a sudden rush of air. The thunder of the club vanished in a swirl of light and color, and everything around them changed.
Garrus got up to have a look. What had once been the dim-lit and dingy Afterlife was now a bright hall of white marble and chrome. The stairways curved elegantly like he'd seen in classic Earthvids, and the patrons-though still each their own species-were dressed in clothes not worn in over a century so far as humans were concerned. The women wore floor-length gowns of sweeping fabrics adorned with various tiny bits of glass or metal that made them glitter and shine. The men wore three-piece suits of black and white with bows at their throats. Tuxedos, if he recalled what Joker told him. They sat around at dining tables, chatting happily, or danced together on the dance floor to the impressive sound of a live band performing with brass and strings. The musicians were on a raised stage in the middle of the dance floor, and prominent among them was a black and glossy grand piano.
"That's better."
He turned to see Shepard dressed like the others. Her uniform was gone and replaced by a sleeveless gown of a pale blue gauzy silk. It hugged her form to her waist before belling outwards in elegant folds. Clear jewels dazzled from her throat and ears but were nothing in comparison to her smile. His heart swelled, fluttered in his chest, and when he puffed his lungs up with a calming breath, he noticed that he, too, was now dressed in one of those tuxedos, a small red rose tucked through the lapel.
"Care to dance with me?"
"Shepard...you know you... You know you can't dance. And neither can I."
She laughed lightly, a sound he was definitely sure he hadn't heard in years, and she took him by the arm and led him away from the railing. With her skirt lifted in one hand, they descended the stairs together. "I've learned a lot since I've been here. Dancing is nothing." She turned to him, one hand in his and the other resting on his shoulder after she saw that his arm was properly about her waist. Then, with a wink, she turned her head slightly toward the piano.
"Play it, Samara."
Garrus stared in wonder for a moment as fingers deftly swept over ivory keys in elegant arpeggios. The notes were soon joined by a rich alto as beautiful as the asari that carried it, her body clad in a fitted gown of black velvet. She smiled warmly at the turian around the lyrics, her brilliant blue eyes shining.
She's a fool, and don't I know it,
But a fool can have her charms.
I'm in love and don't I show it,
Like a babe in arms.
Shepard led the way at first, helping Garrus to find the tempo and murmuring the simple steps. With every beat, her hips swayed beneath his hand, and he quickly found himself not caring whether he could actually dance or not.
Love's the same old, sad sensation.
Lately, I've not slept a wink,
Since this half-pint imitation
Put me on the blink.
"I don't know this song," he whispered as they slowly moved their way around the stage. "It's...nothing I've ever heard before."
Shepard was all smiles. "Frank Sinatra," she replied, allowing herself to be spun about and caught back up again. "Earthborn over two hundred years ago. My father was fond of him."
"I see." Garrus was quickly caught up in it, his movements easy and free and Shepard positively fluid in his arms. Other couples gave them free reign of the floor as Samara's voice rang through the air with a sound undeniably pure and supported by the piano and strings. There was the faint smell of flowers on the air that did not belong to the lily centerpieces. It was spicier, like if he tasted it, it would send a tingle all the way through him. It reminded him a little of home. Out of curiosity, he bent closer to Shepard, inhaling to take in the scent of her hair. Cenolias. His mother used to grow them. And his sister after her.
Couldn't sleep and wouldn't sleep.
Love came and told me I shouldn't sleep.
Bewitched, bothered, and bewildered am I.
"You look stunning, you know," he said lowly. "I used to be jealous of Kasumi. She's the only one that's ever seen you in a dress."
Shepard laughed. "It wasn't much to look at at the time. I rather hated that dress." She moved in closer and lifted her mouth as close to his ear opening as she could. "But I still have it if you're curious."
Lost my heart, but what of it?
She is cold, I agree.
She can laugh, but I love it.
Although the laugh's on me.
Garrus felt his whole world grow hot. Shepard's breath against his face, her body so close to his. The scent of her cenolia perfume teasing him beyond all reasonable parameters. Moving with the song, he bowed low, cradling Shepard in his arms as she arched gracefully backward. Her head came back up slowly, his lowering further. His eyes closed in anticipation of her soft human lips.
Their touch never came. The dream faded while still held in thrall of a powerful tenor. Not Samara. This was a man's voice.
I'll sing to her, bring spring to her,
And long for the day when I'll cling to her.
Garrus flung his hand to the side of the bed, shutting off Shepard's old alarm clock that she had apparently set to play music when it went off. He hadn't thought of that when he switched it on before collapsing into bed. Silence fell. The only light was the soft blue of the aquarium. The only sound was the filtration system and the gentle hum of the Normandy's vents.
Still groggy, the turian was in no mood to abandon his dream so soon, the first properly good one he'd had since before the attempt to take back Earth. And he still thought he smelled the perfume, the warmth of her hand in his.
Bewitched, bothered, and bewildered am I.
Fanfiction.net | Ao3
Chapter: Bewitched
Rating: T
Warning: The links provided click through to the WIP fic, which is rated M thanks to Jack.
Featured Characters: (in this snippet) Garrus, FemShep, Samara
Synopsis: A galaxy redeemed. A hero sacrificed. But light-years away and lost, Garrus and the others face unknown challenges and too many unanswered questions. The dreams of Shepard only make it worse, and a discovery leaves all of reality shaken.
He knew this place. The air was hot with life and generators that never stopped running. There was a constant thrum of engines and ventilators, the buzz of electric lights, and the tinny murmur of the much-ignored galaxy news broadcasts. Garrus moved through the dim red and yellow lights, pushing his way through the crowd-humans, batarians, vorcha, and salarians all blending together into one maddening throng. Omega. It felt like home. But he couldn't say this was a good thing.
Garrus walked into the flames, not noticing the heat as he moved to the next set of doors. Music boomed. Asari snaked around poles up on the raised platform behind the bar, ignoring remarks shouted at them from drunk lowlifes below. He nodded to one of the turian bouncers and kept on moving, around the inner hub and up a set of stairs. He was heading for where Aria normally kept shop, and he wasn't quite sure why. There was a sense of need, not so much necessity but more like duty. He'd been summoned, so he was here.
The bodyguards were posted at their usual intervals. They casually held their rifles or rested hands on pistols and didn't seem to pay him any mind as he passed. At the top of the last flight, he was totally expecting the usual hand to the chest, a quick scan, a needless argument of identity just to prove that he wasn't here as Archangel and nor was he a threat. To his surprise, the couches of the upper platform were empty. No Aria. No guards. Instead, a human woman sat off to one side, her dark hair bound up into a thick bun at the back of her head, her Alliance officer uniform looking black in the unnatural light. There was a glass of an amber liquid in her hand with a small table beside her holding another glass and a couple of corked bottles.
"I expected you earlier."
There was no, "Hey, how are you?" No rushing to her feet to tackle him with a hug...and maybe a kiss if she felt so inclined. Shepard just sat there, looking at her glass instead of him, a line of concentration creasing her brow.
He awkwardly cleared his throat. "I didn't expect this to be the bar in heaven."
That brought a smile to her lips as she tilted her drink back. "It's not. But it is Afterlife, so I thought it appropriate enough for now."
"Oh...okay." His voice was slow, cautious. He turned his head so that he was looking at her without his visor in the way. He'd seen her so much in his dreams, but this was definitely the first time she'd spoken to him directly. So often, he was an obscure third-party observer. But this? Aside from an uncomfortable feeling of vertigo, he could have sworn he were really standing in the heart of Omega.
"But I'm glad you came," Shepard went on, gesturing to a space of empty couch beside her. "I wasn't sure you would."
Garrus simply blinked at her as he took a seat. He couldn't recall having much choice in the matter, not that he would have denied her, anyway. He didn't care how much his brain was playing tricks on him at this point. An opportunity to even think he was talking to Shepard was not one he was keen on wasting.
"I'm always here for you, Shepard. You know that."
She smiled. Her eyes finally turned to take him in, the gray full of warmth and weariness all at once. She was still tired, just like she had been the night before the Cerberus base. He'd stayed with her through the nightmares. Now, it was her turn. Her hand reached over and clasped his, her five fingers weaving between his three.
"You don't have to worry about me," she said gently, her quiet voice still somehow carrying over the noise. "I'm fine."
"Where are you?" he asked, more urgently than he'd intended. He hoped the answer wasn't going to be his mind making something up. "The Citadel? Earth?"
Shepard shrugged. "I honestly don't know. I remember the Citadel last but..." her eyes narrowed as she looked off into the middle distance, some nondescript point under the floor. "But there's a lot of Geth chatter. I'm going to be a bit pissed if it turns out that I'm dead, and that's what I'll deal with for eternity."
It was half a joke, but neither of them laughed. Shepard being dead again had crossed his mind more than once, but for once, just once, he wanted his own desire to trump that of fate and the universe. For a while, they just sat there, hand in hand and letting the booming music of the club reverberate through them both. It wasn't the most calming of atmospheres, and it definitely hadn't been where he'd ever expected to find Shepard...ever...but here they were.
Shepard suddenly inhaled a deep breath and stood, letting go of him and stepping over to the balcony edge to where she could see the entire floor below, the massive sign for Afterlife glowing above her head.
"This isn't what I'd had in mind," she said, studying the scene around them for a brief moment before raising her hand. She appeared to brush it against a flat yet invisible surface. There was nothing there, but Garrus stared in wonder when the air shimmered and seemed to pixelate from her touch. Shepard drew her hand back, quirked a smile, and touched a single finger to that same place in the air. There was a small ripple effect and a sudden rush of air. The thunder of the club vanished in a swirl of light and color, and everything around them changed.
Garrus got up to have a look. What had once been the dim-lit and dingy Afterlife was now a bright hall of white marble and chrome. The stairways curved elegantly like he'd seen in classic Earthvids, and the patrons-though still each their own species-were dressed in clothes not worn in over a century so far as humans were concerned. The women wore floor-length gowns of sweeping fabrics adorned with various tiny bits of glass or metal that made them glitter and shine. The men wore three-piece suits of black and white with bows at their throats. Tuxedos, if he recalled what Joker told him. They sat around at dining tables, chatting happily, or danced together on the dance floor to the impressive sound of a live band performing with brass and strings. The musicians were on a raised stage in the middle of the dance floor, and prominent among them was a black and glossy grand piano.
"That's better."
He turned to see Shepard dressed like the others. Her uniform was gone and replaced by a sleeveless gown of a pale blue gauzy silk. It hugged her form to her waist before belling outwards in elegant folds. Clear jewels dazzled from her throat and ears but were nothing in comparison to her smile. His heart swelled, fluttered in his chest, and when he puffed his lungs up with a calming breath, he noticed that he, too, was now dressed in one of those tuxedos, a small red rose tucked through the lapel.
"Care to dance with me?"
"Shepard...you know you... You know you can't dance. And neither can I."
She laughed lightly, a sound he was definitely sure he hadn't heard in years, and she took him by the arm and led him away from the railing. With her skirt lifted in one hand, they descended the stairs together. "I've learned a lot since I've been here. Dancing is nothing." She turned to him, one hand in his and the other resting on his shoulder after she saw that his arm was properly about her waist. Then, with a wink, she turned her head slightly toward the piano.
"Play it, Samara."
Garrus stared in wonder for a moment as fingers deftly swept over ivory keys in elegant arpeggios. The notes were soon joined by a rich alto as beautiful as the asari that carried it, her body clad in a fitted gown of black velvet. She smiled warmly at the turian around the lyrics, her brilliant blue eyes shining.
She's a fool, and don't I know it,
But a fool can have her charms.
I'm in love and don't I show it,
Like a babe in arms.
Shepard led the way at first, helping Garrus to find the tempo and murmuring the simple steps. With every beat, her hips swayed beneath his hand, and he quickly found himself not caring whether he could actually dance or not.
Love's the same old, sad sensation.
Lately, I've not slept a wink,
Since this half-pint imitation
Put me on the blink.
"I don't know this song," he whispered as they slowly moved their way around the stage. "It's...nothing I've ever heard before."
Shepard was all smiles. "Frank Sinatra," she replied, allowing herself to be spun about and caught back up again. "Earthborn over two hundred years ago. My father was fond of him."
"I see." Garrus was quickly caught up in it, his movements easy and free and Shepard positively fluid in his arms. Other couples gave them free reign of the floor as Samara's voice rang through the air with a sound undeniably pure and supported by the piano and strings. There was the faint smell of flowers on the air that did not belong to the lily centerpieces. It was spicier, like if he tasted it, it would send a tingle all the way through him. It reminded him a little of home. Out of curiosity, he bent closer to Shepard, inhaling to take in the scent of her hair. Cenolias. His mother used to grow them. And his sister after her.
Couldn't sleep and wouldn't sleep.
Love came and told me I shouldn't sleep.
Bewitched, bothered, and bewildered am I.
"You look stunning, you know," he said lowly. "I used to be jealous of Kasumi. She's the only one that's ever seen you in a dress."
Shepard laughed. "It wasn't much to look at at the time. I rather hated that dress." She moved in closer and lifted her mouth as close to his ear opening as she could. "But I still have it if you're curious."
Lost my heart, but what of it?
She is cold, I agree.
She can laugh, but I love it.
Although the laugh's on me.
Garrus felt his whole world grow hot. Shepard's breath against his face, her body so close to his. The scent of her cenolia perfume teasing him beyond all reasonable parameters. Moving with the song, he bowed low, cradling Shepard in his arms as she arched gracefully backward. Her head came back up slowly, his lowering further. His eyes closed in anticipation of her soft human lips.
Their touch never came. The dream faded while still held in thrall of a powerful tenor. Not Samara. This was a man's voice.
I'll sing to her, bring spring to her,
And long for the day when I'll cling to her.
Garrus flung his hand to the side of the bed, shutting off Shepard's old alarm clock that she had apparently set to play music when it went off. He hadn't thought of that when he switched it on before collapsing into bed. Silence fell. The only light was the soft blue of the aquarium. The only sound was the filtration system and the gentle hum of the Normandy's vents.
Still groggy, the turian was in no mood to abandon his dream so soon, the first properly good one he'd had since before the attempt to take back Earth. And he still thought he smelled the perfume, the warmth of her hand in his.
Bewitched, bothered, and bewildered am I.
Fanfiction.net | Ao3