Nouveau jeu - Femshep/Garrus 7
anonymous
July 10 2013, 19:02:40 UTC
Shepard caught up with him, just as she had before. Rushing in, she created enough of a distraction for Garrus to make his shot. The rest were taken care of just seconds later. This new, imposter Shepard sauntered up to him and nodded once, “Nice shot.” She said before turning away. The real Shepard had chastised him for taking a risk of hitting Dr. Michel. The knot in his stomach hardened.
This was when the course of his life changed. This very moment, he realized, when he had asked Shepard to take him along in the hunt for Saren. This might be his only chance he had. This Shepard was all wrong, but he couldn’t let her go on without him. As screwed up as the whole situation was he knew he couldn’t take that chance. The Reaper war was still fresh in his mind. It was only yesterday to him that they’d ordered a full retreat, that Earth and Shepard were lost. Without Shepard, without the knowledge they’d obtained over the course of the next few years they’d be completely unprepared for the Reapers.
And he knew well and good that he was no longer an “Expert Reaper Advisor”, he was just a lowly C-sec officer who bristled at authority once again, and no one was going to listen to him.
“Shepard, I want to come with you.” She looked up at him, eyes narrowed slightly.
“What about C-Sec, Officer Vakarian?”
“C-Sec doesn’t need me, and truth be told, I’m not a really good fit. Red tape and I have a long history of not getting along. Getting Saren is more important, I know he’s guilty, and I can’t help from here.” He hesitated a moment before speaking again, “Also, I ah, I have a feeling something really big is behind all this.”
She folded her arms across her chest, and tilted her head slightly while seeming to consider this. “What makes you say that?”
If only you knew. “Let’s just say that I have really good intuition when it comes to these things.”
Her gaze was cool and direct, finally, she nodded. “Get your things and meet us at the docking bay. We leave within an hour. Welcome aboard, Vakarian.”
Nouveau jeu - Femshep/Garrus 8
anonymous
July 10 2013, 21:15:34 UTC
Over the course of the next few weeks Garrus observed her. He observed the rest of the crew as well. They were the same as before, as far as he could tell. Ashley remained unsure of him, of all the “aliens” on board, but he knew she would come around. Tali was Tali, as always, and still reminded him a great deal of Solana. Liara, she was the same as she had been before she’d become the Shadowbroker. He’d considered going to her, asking her to get into his head, curious to whether or not she could see what he’d been through, see the other Shepard. But something held him back.
He hadn’t really paid much attention to Kaidan before; he hadn’t much time before he’d died. He could see that he had a good heart, good intentions, but the way he’d gaze at Shepard with longing set him on edge. How could he be so oblivious to the fact that THIS Shepard would eat him alive? Or did he have some sort of hero fantasy of taking this cold, damaged Shepard and saving her from herself? Either way, Garrus wasn’t impressed by these events. Even less so that she never rebuffed the biotics’ attention.
Garrus grudgingly admitted to himself that Kaidan was much more suited to the original Shepard; in fact, the soft spoken biotic would have suited her very well. He tried not to hold it against him though. It certainly wasn’t his fault, and if things continued as they had been, Kaidan would likely not be around for long. Unless he could find a way to prevent it.
Garrus tried, on several occasions, to change their course, thinking perhaps he could alter the future somehow. Several times he nearly broke down and told Shepard everything, each and every time something prevented him. He desperately wanted to find a way to change their course, to improve their chances of winning that final war, save what lives could be saved. Fate felt differently. For every suggestion he made, course he took, it seemed there was a roadblock, a detour, bringing them back to exactly where they had stood before. He felt like he was nothing more than a passenger in this timeline.
Nouveau jeu - Femshep/Garrus 9
anonymous
July 10 2013, 21:17:31 UTC
The changes in her continued to baffle him, intrigue him, and occasionally anger him. Shepard, who could barely set her own alarm, could now bypass a door faster than he ever could. This Shepard, if handed a sniper rifle, would likely be better off using it as a club. She didn’t have the patience to handle one any other way. Not to say she wasn’t a well-seasoned and highly skilled soldier, she was. She was ruthless on the battlefield, but liked to work up close and personal. She was still slender, all hard edges and angles, but fast; Spirits she was fast; and incredibly fierce.
An image came to mind of a recent battle. She had shoved the end of her shotgun into the mouth of a krogan, blowing the top of his head off. She had turned away and looked up at Garrus where he was perched, catching his eye. Her teeth were bared in a vicious grin, her face had been spattered with blood and gore, and she seemed to revel in it; a perfect, coldblooded predator.
To Garrus the sight had been painfully erotic. Adrenaline already up, he felt himself harden and lengthen inside his armor. He imagined pulling the red haired virago into an alcove and fucking her, hard and fast. His mouth salivated at the idea of gripping her shoulder, tasting her blood on his tongue, and holding her there as he brutally pounded into her. He hadn’t ever done that with his Shepard, he had always been careful with her the few times they’d been together. But with this one, a growl bubbled into this throat, this one could handle it. Hell, she’d probably demand it. He knew her body, every fucking inch of it, and damned if he didn’t want to demonstrate to her just how well he knew those hard planes and sharp angles. His blood thickened, his cock throbbed. He loathed himself for this reaction, and hated her for it.
His resentment for her grew as her every action caused his memories of the real Shepard to fade a little more. On some level he was beginning to realize that this Shepard was better suited for him than his Shepard had been. His Shepard knew, somehow that they hadn’t been well-matched, not entirely. It’s likely why their romance was so short lived. Too short lived. He’d agreed with her decision to end it, to be the friend she need. He wished he hadn’t now, wished he’d pushed her for more. But he had always deferred to her judgment in everything.
He hadn’t always agreed with her of course, not on everything. There were times when he had thought a more concise approach in certain situations would have been the better move, but his Shepard, she always believed the best of everyone, and took people for their word. Sometimes it backfired. He never voiced his concern when he thought she was making the wrong choice, he trusted her judgment.
In retrospect, maybe he should have. And such a thought was no better than treason in his mind.
His anger towards the new Shepard continued to grow.
Nouveau jeu - Femshep/Garrus 10
anonymous
July 10 2013, 21:19:31 UTC
Something about this Shepard caused him to bristle under her command, make the occasional snide comment when she wasn’t doing what Shepard was supposed to do. Before, if HE had returned to his original self, he wouldn’t have dreamed of voicing most of his concerns, and certainly not mouthing off. But he had changed over the years, and hadn’t been, well, reset, as he’d come to think of it, like everyone else had. He was so different from that idealistic young C-sec officer, times, Omega, Shepard, the reapers had forged him into who he was.
And even though he could accept these changes in himself, he somehow couldn’t in her. It was probably, quite simply, that she wasn’t her; that kind, compassionate female, always quick to laugh, and so full of patience and understanding. In her place instead her new namesake was quick to anger, impatient, flawed. It simply wasn’t right.
Some things about her remained similar. She was no less effective on the battlefield, more so, really. With less caution taken they got through their missions faster. He was becoming grateful, almost, that he’s spent so many hours at his other Shepard’s side, seen so much. He’d needed the practice to keep up with this Shepard. She never hesitated. She seemed to almost know the outcome even before she acted. They worked together well, that could not be denied. She continued to do the right thing during their missions, but used different methods to reach the same goal. She was much more likely to bully someone into the right course of action than trying to reason with them.
A few of her quirks Garrus enjoyed, immensely. The way she handled the council for one. The interloper Shepard was about as tactful as a drunken krogan. Short tempered she more often than not allowed herself to speak before thinking, and he found himself having to bite his tongue to keep from laughing a few times. It was highly entertaining watching the turian councilor sputter and fume. She was downright cruel to Udina on occasion. The traitorous bastard deserved it.
Other changes gave him cause for concern. She rarely smiled, on the rare occasion she laughed it was twisted with cynicism, and sometimes, when she didn’t know she was being observed, a look of sadness crossed her features. That look worried him, more than he wanted it to. It never lasted long, and was always quickly replaced by her stoic, cold mask, but there was underlying pain there, or perhaps regret.
A part of him wanted to confront her about it; ease that ache from her, and share her burdens. She needed someone, he could see that, but she was probably too stubborn to accept it.
Another part of him wanted lash out of her for causing these feelings to bubble up in him to begin with.
She still spent time speaking with the crew, himself included. But their conversations were much more brief than they had been in the past. Likely she did so because it was the most effective way of building a team, and she was still good at team building, that was certain But these talks were was devoid of the sense of playfulness, of friendliness which the old Shepard projected.
She was a mystery. A mystery he was uncertain he wanted to unravel. Or even if he was up to the task.
This was when the course of his life changed. This very moment, he realized, when he had asked Shepard to take him along in the hunt for Saren. This might be his only chance he had. This Shepard was all wrong, but he couldn’t let her go on without him. As screwed up as the whole situation was he knew he couldn’t take that chance. The Reaper war was still fresh in his mind. It was only yesterday to him that they’d ordered a full retreat, that Earth and Shepard were lost. Without Shepard, without the knowledge they’d obtained over the course of the next few years they’d be completely unprepared for the Reapers.
And he knew well and good that he was no longer an “Expert Reaper Advisor”, he was just a lowly C-sec officer who bristled at authority once again, and no one was going to listen to him.
“Shepard, I want to come with you.” She looked up at him, eyes narrowed slightly.
“What about C-Sec, Officer Vakarian?”
“C-Sec doesn’t need me, and truth be told, I’m not a really good fit. Red tape and I have a long history of not getting along. Getting Saren is more important, I know he’s guilty, and I can’t help from here.” He hesitated a moment before speaking again, “Also, I ah, I have a feeling something really big is behind all this.”
She folded her arms across her chest, and tilted her head slightly while seeming to consider this. “What makes you say that?”
If only you knew. “Let’s just say that I have really good intuition when it comes to these things.”
Her gaze was cool and direct, finally, she nodded. “Get your things and meet us at the docking bay. We leave within an hour. Welcome aboard, Vakarian.”
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He hadn’t really paid much attention to Kaidan before; he hadn’t much time before he’d died. He could see that he had a good heart, good intentions, but the way he’d gaze at Shepard with longing set him on edge. How could he be so oblivious to the fact that THIS Shepard would eat him alive? Or did he have some sort of hero fantasy of taking this cold, damaged Shepard and saving her from herself? Either way, Garrus wasn’t impressed by these events. Even less so that she never rebuffed the biotics’ attention.
Garrus grudgingly admitted to himself that Kaidan was much more suited to the original Shepard; in fact, the soft spoken biotic would have suited her very well. He tried not to hold it against him though. It certainly wasn’t his fault, and if things continued as they had been, Kaidan would likely not be around for long. Unless he could find a way to prevent it.
Garrus tried, on several occasions, to change their course, thinking perhaps he could alter the future somehow. Several times he nearly broke down and told Shepard everything, each and every time something prevented him. He desperately wanted to find a way to change their course, to improve their chances of winning that final war, save what lives could be saved. Fate felt differently. For every suggestion he made, course he took, it seemed there was a roadblock, a detour, bringing them back to exactly where they had stood before. He felt like he was nothing more than a passenger in this timeline.
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An image came to mind of a recent battle. She had shoved the end of her shotgun into the mouth of a krogan, blowing the top of his head off. She had turned away and looked up at Garrus where he was perched, catching his eye. Her teeth were bared in a vicious grin, her face had been spattered with blood and gore, and she seemed to revel in it; a perfect, coldblooded predator.
To Garrus the sight had been painfully erotic. Adrenaline already up, he felt himself harden and lengthen inside his armor. He imagined pulling the red haired virago into an alcove and fucking her, hard and fast. His mouth salivated at the idea of gripping her shoulder, tasting her blood on his tongue, and holding her there as he brutally pounded into her. He hadn’t ever done that with his Shepard, he had always been careful with her the few times they’d been together. But with this one, a growl bubbled into this throat, this one could handle it. Hell, she’d probably demand it. He knew her body, every fucking inch of it, and damned if he didn’t want to demonstrate to her just how well he knew those hard planes and sharp angles. His blood thickened, his cock throbbed. He loathed himself for this reaction, and hated her for it.
His resentment for her grew as her every action caused his memories of the real Shepard to fade a little more. On some level he was beginning to realize that this Shepard was better suited for him than his Shepard had been. His Shepard knew, somehow that they hadn’t been well-matched, not entirely. It’s likely why their romance was so short lived. Too short lived. He’d agreed with her decision to end it, to be the friend she need. He wished he hadn’t now, wished he’d pushed her for more. But he had always deferred to her judgment in everything.
He hadn’t always agreed with her of course, not on everything. There were times when he had thought a more concise approach in certain situations would have been the better move, but his Shepard, she always believed the best of everyone, and took people for their word. Sometimes it backfired. He never voiced his concern when he thought she was making the wrong choice, he trusted her judgment.
In retrospect, maybe he should have. And such a thought was no better than treason in his mind.
His anger towards the new Shepard continued to grow.
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And even though he could accept these changes in himself, he somehow couldn’t in her. It was probably, quite simply, that she wasn’t her; that kind, compassionate female, always quick to laugh, and so full of patience and understanding. In her place instead her new namesake was quick to anger, impatient, flawed. It simply wasn’t right.
Some things about her remained similar. She was no less effective on the battlefield, more so, really. With less caution taken they got through their missions faster. He was becoming grateful, almost, that he’s spent so many hours at his other Shepard’s side, seen so much. He’d needed the practice to keep up with this Shepard. She never hesitated. She seemed to almost know the outcome even before she acted. They worked together well, that could not be denied. She continued to do the right thing during their missions, but used different methods to reach the same goal. She was much more likely to bully someone into the right course of action than trying to reason with them.
A few of her quirks Garrus enjoyed, immensely. The way she handled the council for one. The interloper Shepard was about as tactful as a drunken krogan. Short tempered she more often than not allowed herself to speak before thinking, and he found himself having to bite his tongue to keep from laughing a few times. It was highly entertaining watching the turian councilor sputter and fume. She was downright cruel to Udina on occasion. The traitorous bastard deserved it.
Other changes gave him cause for concern. She rarely smiled, on the rare occasion she laughed it was twisted with cynicism, and sometimes, when she didn’t know she was being observed, a look of sadness crossed her features. That look worried him, more than he wanted it to. It never lasted long, and was always quickly replaced by her stoic, cold mask, but there was underlying pain there, or perhaps regret.
A part of him wanted to confront her about it; ease that ache from her, and share her burdens. She needed someone, he could see that, but she was probably too stubborn to accept it.
Another part of him wanted lash out of her for causing these feelings to bubble up in him to begin with.
She still spent time speaking with the crew, himself included. But their conversations were much more brief than they had been in the past. Likely she did so because it was the most effective way of building a team, and she was still good at team building, that was certain But these talks were was devoid of the sense of playfulness, of friendliness which the old Shepard projected.
She was a mystery. A mystery he was uncertain he wanted to unravel. Or even if he was up to the task.
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