femShep/Garrus: Memento 1/?
anonymous
October 5 2012, 22:03:53 UTC
A/N: I've heard back from my beta much faster than I expected, so here's the first chapter. I hope OP is still around. _____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
"What's this?" Garrus narrowed his eyes with suspicion at the strange item in Shepard's outstretched hand.
"It's a medallion with a lock of my hair" she explained enthusiastically, nearly bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet with excitement. "See? You push this button, the locket opens, and here's my hair inside."
"Eww." Garrus gasped as he stared at the object at the end of the silver chain. He had just started to reach for it, but now his hand recoiled in horror and he took a step back.
"Eww? What do you mean, eww?" She snapped the pendant shut and put her hands on her hips, the necklace dangling from her fingers along her right thigh as she glared at him. "I thought you liked my hair. You said it was silky and smooth."
"Yeah, I like it-when it's attached to your head."
"What the hell's the difference?" She lifted her shoulders and turned her hands upward in an exasperated shrug. He could be so difficult sometimes.
"Well, it's not you anymore-it's just a part of you that you've cut off. And now it's dead." He tried to explain the obvious without angering her even more.
"Garrus," she sighed, "the hair on my head that you like to stroke so much is also dead. So it's basically the same thing."
'Gross,' he wanted to say, but thought better of it.
"It's just like your talons," she continued, "those are made up of dead cells, too. That's why it doesn't hurt when you file them."
'That's true,' he thought and nodded his head, relieved that now he could enjoy her wonderful hair again. He did love to weave his fingers through it and let the strands slide over and between them.
"But... why are you giving this to me?" He still didn't understand where she was going with all this.
"Because," she bit her lower lip as she tried to steel herself enough to squeeze out the words she needed to say, "I want you to remember me while we're apart. I thought that having a part of me with you would be a little bit like... having me with you. I don't know when we'll see each other again." Her voice dropped to almost a whisper and she had to fight back the tears that were welling up in her eyes. "But if you don't want it-"
"No! I do want it!" He quickly closed the distance between them and snatched the chain from her hand before she had the chance to put it away. He pushed the little button on the side of the medallion and stroked the hair inside, swallowing hard at the thought that this was going to be his only connection to her for who knows how long. "Jane," he rumbled as he closed the locket then pulled her to him and held her tight, "do you really have to go? To hell with the Alliance."
"We've talked about this," she sighed, burying her face in his chest. "It's the only way to prevent the war with the batarians. I have no choice."
"Dammit," he growled, "I'll miss you."
"I'll miss you, too," she said and pushed her body into his, soaking up his heat and committing every little detail about him to memory: his scent, his touch, the shape of his plates under her fingers. This was all she could take with her; and this was one thing they could not take away.
femShep/Garrus: Memento 2/?
anonymous
October 5 2012, 22:20:06 UTC
Two days later they docked at the Citadel and dropped Garrus off. He stood at the docking port, watching the Normandy pull out and take his heart with it. He stayed and stared into the darkness until he could see the ship no more, and for some time even after that. His feet frozen to the ground, he had to will himself to turn around and move away. 'Turians don't cry,' he kept reminding himself, but damn if it wasn't hard to see where he was going.
He still had his small apartment from his C-Sec days, but he had no fresh supplies in his cupboards, and whatever was left must have gone bad by now. So he headed to a store to stock up-most importantly he desperately needed a bottle of turian brandy.
The air in the apartment was stale, but he didn't care. He put the bag down, took out the bottle and pulled the cork out with one efficient move. He walked over to the couch and collapsed on it, propped his feet up on the coffee table and took a long swig of the liquor. As the alcohol slid down his throat, burning a path to his stomach, he remembered the night he and Shepard had spent at the Dark Star Lounge, having a drinking contest, then ending up sprawled out on her bed, too drunk to do anything but sleep.
They made up for lost time the next morning, though, he chuckled to himself, his plates shifting a bit at the memory of her mouth, her tongue, and her agile little fingers on his body.
Trying to distract himself from those arousing thoughts, he recalled the shock and joy he felt when he'd realized that she was alive and she was the one coming for him at his base on Omega. Then his mind flashed back to all the missions they went on together, just like old times, fighting shoulder to shoulder, always in tune with each other's thoughts and intentions.
He drank until he felt his brain was hazy enough to let him drift off into a dreamless sleep, then stripped off his clothes and climbed into bed. It didn't really help; he kept seeing her in his dreams, and when he woke up the next morning he reached out to touch her and pull her into his embrace. The bed beside him was empty, and it took him a while to become conscious enough to understand that it wasn't because she'd gotten up and gone to the bathroom or she'd decided to check something on her terminal.
His fist clenched into a raged ball, ripping the sheets underneath, then he remembered the memento she'd given him. He got up in a hurry, rummaged through his clothes that he'd carelessly discarded on the floor, and found the necklace with the locket. With trembling hands, he pushed the little button and when the cover sprang open and the lock of her hair came into sight he softly stroked the delicate strands.
His chest filled with gratitude at what he finally realized was the best gift she could have given him: a part of herself, just like she said, that he could carry with him even while they were so far away from each other. He wished now that he could have given her something similar, but he hoped that she was thinking about him even without that.
He snapped the pendant shut then put the chain with it around his neck. It felt good to feel like she was there with him, right next to his heart.
I actually have been checking every day to see if anyone's been interested enough to fill the prompt. :p So thank you, author!anon, for this lovely story! I love how you described Garrus' initial reaction and how he treasures the gift later. Eagerly waiting for more.
femShep/Garrus: Memento 3/?
anonymous
October 8 2012, 13:40:59 UTC
Later in the morning he went to the Presidium and asked for an audience with the Council to try to convince them of the severity and urgency of the situation with the Reapers. He had to wait a couple of days for them to finally receive him, but in the end it all turned out to be a colossal waste of time. They hadn't believed the hero of the galaxy, savior of the Citadel, so why should they believe him-an ex C-Sec officer turned Cerberus collaborator? He'd suspected that this was going to be the outcome, but still, he had to try.
With nothing left for him to do here, he booked passage to Palaven, hoping that he would have better luck with his father despite their strained relationship. He was a logical man, after all, who always considered the facts first before coming to a conclusion without any emotion or prejudice.
They sat in his office in their family home as Garrus laid out all the details of the last few months: the Collectors kidnapping humans, the Collector base with the human Reaper embrio, the clock ticking down to the Reaper invasion.
Vakarian Sr. listened carefully, his features darkening more and more as he put all the pieces together from his son's account.
"The primarch is my friend," he said when Garrus finished and after he'd pondered the issue for a few moments. "I'll try to talk to him. Maybe he can help."
"Thank you, father," Garrus nodded, not letting himself get carried away, but still hopeful that maybe now something will be done.
"You are staying here, are you not?" His father leveled his stern gaze at him, like he always did. It used to make him uneasy, but after all that he'd been through he just didn't care anymore.
"For now," he replied coolly, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms in front of his chest. The older Vakarian raised a brow plate, but didn't say anything. 'There's a first time for everything,' Garrus thought to himself with a satisfied grin. Maybe this visit wasn't going to be so painful after all.
***
"Garrus, what the hell are you doing?" the voice of his father grumbled at him from the doorway. Garrus was lying on his back under the bathroom sink, tools and plumbing parts scattered all around as he struggled to take the corroded pipe apart.
"I've dropped something," he grunted as he gave a desperate shove to the wrench in his hand, trying to loosen the coupling nut so that he could free the trap and examine it.
"Why didn't you just call a plumber?" Vakarian Sr. asked, rubbing his forehead in exasperation. He was glad to have his son at home, but he was getting a little tired of his constant brooding and stomping around in the house. He knew that it was hard for him to sit still and wait for the primarch's answer, but this was getting ridiculous.
Garrus didn't answer, just groaned as he put more muscle into trying to turn the wrench. His father sighed and left in resignation, shaking his head as he retreated to his office, determined to hunt down his friend and force out a meeting with him.
If he had stayed he could have seen the relieved expression on Garrus's face when he finally managed to loosen the nut, took the pipe out and dumped its contents on the floor. Not caring one bit about the mess he made he desperately searched through the disgusting gunk that had accumulated ever since the house was built. His panic turned into exhilaration when he finally found what he was looking for: a medallion at the end of a silver chain that had fallen into the drain when he washed his face in the morning.
He leaned against the cabinet door and clutched the locket to his chest, thanking the Spirits for letting him keep his treasure despite his clumsiness. The jewelry and his hands were dirty and sticky, so he rinsed and dried them off before he carefully opened the medallion to marvel at the precious contents. A lump formed in his throat as he caressed the silky hair, and he decided to pay a visit to a repair shop and get the clasp fortified. This could never happen again. Ever.
Re: femShep/Garrus: Memento 3/?
anonymous
October 9 2012, 09:37:26 UTC
Absolutely gorgeous so far A!A, and your writing flows really beautifully, too.
I love how Garrus has gone from being mildly disturbed by the locket, to realising its value, and then to treasuring it as his only tangible connection to Shepard. I also love that we get to see how things are for Garrus when he's on Palaven during their separation: people generally seem to skim over or ignore that period, so I'm really looking forward to seeing where you take this.
_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
"What's this?" Garrus narrowed his eyes with suspicion at the strange item in Shepard's outstretched hand.
"It's a medallion with a lock of my hair" she explained enthusiastically, nearly bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet with excitement. "See? You push this button, the locket opens, and here's my hair inside."
"Eww." Garrus gasped as he stared at the object at the end of the silver chain. He had just started to reach for it, but now his hand recoiled in horror and he took a step back.
"Eww? What do you mean, eww?" She snapped the pendant shut and put her hands on her hips, the necklace dangling from her fingers along her right thigh as she glared at him. "I thought you liked my hair. You said it was silky and smooth."
"Yeah, I like it-when it's attached to your head."
"What the hell's the difference?" She lifted her shoulders and turned her hands upward in an exasperated shrug. He could be so difficult sometimes.
"Well, it's not you anymore-it's just a part of you that you've cut off. And now it's dead." He tried to explain the obvious without angering her even more.
"Garrus," she sighed, "the hair on my head that you like to stroke so much is also dead. So it's basically the same thing."
'Gross,' he wanted to say, but thought better of it.
"It's just like your talons," she continued, "those are made up of dead cells, too. That's why it doesn't hurt when you file them."
'That's true,' he thought and nodded his head, relieved that now he could enjoy her wonderful hair again. He did love to weave his fingers through it and let the strands slide over and between them.
"But... why are you giving this to me?" He still didn't understand where she was going with all this.
"Because," she bit her lower lip as she tried to steel herself enough to squeeze out the words she needed to say, "I want you to remember me while we're apart. I thought that having a part of me with you would be a little bit like... having me with you. I don't know when we'll see each other again." Her voice dropped to almost a whisper and she had to fight back the tears that were welling up in her eyes. "But if you don't want it-"
"No! I do want it!" He quickly closed the distance between them and snatched the chain from her hand before she had the chance to put it away. He pushed the little button on the side of the medallion and stroked the hair inside, swallowing hard at the thought that this was going to be his only connection to her for who knows how long. "Jane," he rumbled as he closed the locket then pulled her to him and held her tight, "do you really have to go? To hell with the Alliance."
"We've talked about this," she sighed, burying her face in his chest. "It's the only way to prevent the war with the batarians. I have no choice."
"Dammit," he growled, "I'll miss you."
"I'll miss you, too," she said and pushed her body into his, soaking up his heat and committing every little detail about him to memory: his scent, his touch, the shape of his plates under her fingers. This was all she could take with her; and this was one thing they could not take away.
Reply
He still had his small apartment from his C-Sec days, but he had no fresh supplies in his cupboards, and whatever was left must have gone bad by now. So he headed to a store to stock up-most importantly he desperately needed a bottle of turian brandy.
The air in the apartment was stale, but he didn't care. He put the bag down, took out the bottle and pulled the cork out with one efficient move. He walked over to the couch and collapsed on it, propped his feet up on the coffee table and took a long swig of the liquor. As the alcohol slid down his throat, burning a path to his stomach, he remembered the night he and Shepard had spent at the Dark Star Lounge, having a drinking contest, then ending up sprawled out on her bed, too drunk to do anything but sleep.
They made up for lost time the next morning, though, he chuckled to himself, his plates shifting a bit at the memory of her mouth, her tongue, and her agile little fingers on his body.
Trying to distract himself from those arousing thoughts, he recalled the shock and joy he felt when he'd realized that she was alive and she was the one coming for him at his base on Omega. Then his mind flashed back to all the missions they went on together, just like old times, fighting shoulder to shoulder, always in tune with each other's thoughts and intentions.
He drank until he felt his brain was hazy enough to let him drift off into a dreamless sleep, then stripped off his clothes and climbed into bed. It didn't really help; he kept seeing her in his dreams, and when he woke up the next morning he reached out to touch her and pull her into his embrace. The bed beside him was empty, and it took him a while to become conscious enough to understand that it wasn't because she'd gotten up and gone to the bathroom or she'd decided to check something on her terminal.
His fist clenched into a raged ball, ripping the sheets underneath, then he remembered the memento she'd given him. He got up in a hurry, rummaged through his clothes that he'd carelessly discarded on the floor, and found the necklace with the locket. With trembling hands, he pushed the little button and when the cover sprang open and the lock of her hair came into sight he softly stroked the delicate strands.
His chest filled with gratitude at what he finally realized was the best gift she could have given him: a part of herself, just like she said, that he could carry with him even while they were so far away from each other. He wished now that he could have given her something similar, but he hoped that she was thinking about him even without that.
He snapped the pendant shut then put the chain with it around his neck. It felt good to feel like she was there with him, right next to his heart.
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
With nothing left for him to do here, he booked passage to Palaven, hoping that he would have better luck with his father despite their strained relationship. He was a logical man, after all, who always considered the facts first before coming to a conclusion without any emotion or prejudice.
They sat in his office in their family home as Garrus laid out all the details of the last few months: the Collectors kidnapping humans, the Collector base with the human Reaper embrio, the clock ticking down to the Reaper invasion.
Vakarian Sr. listened carefully, his features darkening more and more as he put all the pieces together from his son's account.
"The primarch is my friend," he said when Garrus finished and after he'd pondered the issue for a few moments. "I'll try to talk to him. Maybe he can help."
"Thank you, father," Garrus nodded, not letting himself get carried away, but still hopeful that maybe now something will be done.
"You are staying here, are you not?" His father leveled his stern gaze at him, like he always did. It used to make him uneasy, but after all that he'd been through he just didn't care anymore.
"For now," he replied coolly, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms in front of his chest. The older Vakarian raised a brow plate, but didn't say anything. 'There's a first time for everything,' Garrus thought to himself with a satisfied grin. Maybe this visit wasn't going to be so painful after all.
***
"Garrus, what the hell are you doing?" the voice of his father grumbled at him from the doorway. Garrus was lying on his back under the bathroom sink, tools and plumbing parts scattered all around as he struggled to take the corroded pipe apart.
"I've dropped something," he grunted as he gave a desperate shove to the wrench in his hand, trying to loosen the coupling nut so that he could free the trap and examine it.
"Why didn't you just call a plumber?" Vakarian Sr. asked, rubbing his forehead in exasperation. He was glad to have his son at home, but he was getting a little tired of his constant brooding and stomping around in the house. He knew that it was hard for him to sit still and wait for the primarch's answer, but this was getting ridiculous.
Garrus didn't answer, just groaned as he put more muscle into trying to turn the wrench. His father sighed and left in resignation, shaking his head as he retreated to his office, determined to hunt down his friend and force out a meeting with him.
If he had stayed he could have seen the relieved expression on Garrus's face when he finally managed to loosen the nut, took the pipe out and dumped its contents on the floor. Not caring one bit about the mess he made he desperately searched through the disgusting gunk that had accumulated ever since the house was built. His panic turned into exhilaration when he finally found what he was looking for: a medallion at the end of a silver chain that had fallen into the drain when he washed his face in the morning.
He leaned against the cabinet door and clutched the locket to his chest, thanking the Spirits for letting him keep his treasure despite his clumsiness. The jewelry and his hands were dirty and sticky, so he rinsed and dried them off before he carefully opened the medallion to marvel at the precious contents. A lump formed in his throat as he caressed the silky hair, and he decided to pay a visit to a repair shop and get the clasp fortified. This could never happen again. Ever.
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
Absolutely gorgeous so far A!A, and your writing flows really beautifully, too.
I love how Garrus has gone from being mildly disturbed by the locket, to realising its value, and then to treasuring it as his only tangible connection to Shepard. I also love that we get to see how things are for Garrus when he's on Palaven during their separation: people generally seem to skim over or ignore that period, so I'm really looking forward to seeing where you take this.
Looking forward to more!
Reply
Reply
Reply
Leave a comment